Broken Glass
by Lady Azura
Summary: Fitz is back at Degrassi and determined to turn over a new leaf, but will old habits prove too hard to kill? Or will his budding friendship with Clare be his saving grace?
1. Repercussions

Summary: _Fitz is back at Degrassi and determined to turn over a new leaf, but will old habits prove too hard to kill? Or will his budding friendship with Clare be his saving grace?_

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Enjoy!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Repercussions**_

X

Hostility.

In retrospect, she should have expected nothing less. Somehow, word had gotten around that she was involved with the disaster that was Vegas Night, and by extension, partially responsible for the many changes that the school had undergone over the break - including, but not limited to, the new dress code. Needless to say, no one was particularly happy, and as Clare Edwards walked down the halls of Degrassi, it took most - if not all - of her willpower to hold her head up high as she faced the onslaught of glares, whispers and accusing fingers that followed her.

She could take it though, she decided, because it wasn't nearly as bad as what Adam was being forced to endure, or Eli.

_Eli_…

Her thoughts drifted to her boyfriend.

Was he still her boyfriend? She hadn't spoken to him since the lockdown, after she'd given him an ultimatum, and that was almost three weeks ago. They'd already been back at school for one, but she hadn't found the courage to confront him yet. She had avoided him during the entire break, refusing to respond to his texts and e-mails and phone calls because _darn it_, she needed time to herself; time to reflect on everything that was going on, but especially what had happened during Vegas Night. She had never been so scared in her life -

**BAM!**

Clare started, suddenly jarred from her reverie, and glanced over to see Adam kneeling on the floor, face contorted in pain as he clutched his left shoulder, while a group of upperclassmen disappeared down the hall yelling, "That's what you get for having such a bitch for a mom, Tranny!"

Frowning, Clare made her way over and crouched down to help her friend gather his books, which lay scattered all around.

"Are you okay?" She asked, handing him the last one.

"I'm fine," Adam mumbled, refusing to meet her gaze. He thanked her quietly, then sighed, running a hand through his hair awkwardly before finally looking at her. "They're right, you know."

"About what?"

"The uniforms were my mom's idea." He muttered, rolling his eyes and tugging at his purple polo in disgust.

Clare peered down at herself. It wasn't that she had a problem with the uniform; she used to willingly wear one to school even _before_ it was required, until she and Alli decided to raid Darcy's wardrobe. But she could understand why the rest of the student body would be so adamant about it. They were itchy, and unflattering, and managed to strip away a kind of individuality.

Principal Simpson certainly hadn't been lying when he'd told them that they wouldn't recognize their school when they got back. It was like stepping into an entirely new world. Police now monitored the halls, metal detectors had been set up at every entrance, and locker checks were issued without warning.

New rules had also been implemented. For instance, anyone caught walking the halls while class was in session would serve a week's detention; public displays of affection, though frowned upon before, were now _strictly prohibited_ - including kissing, hugging, and holding hands. Students could only eat in designated locations, such as the cafeteria, and all social networking sites had been banned and blocked off. They weren't even allowed to leave school grounds until the end of the day.

In this new Degrassi, freedom was but a memory, and no one knew how long it would last. But they knew who to blame.

A chill suddenly crawled down Clare's spine, around the same time that she saw Adam stiffen. Seconds later, a strict-looking hall monitor marched past them, casting a cold glare in their direction before rounding the corner. When he was out of sight, Adam let out a breath of relief and rose to his feet, with Clare following his lead.

"What's the point of even having cops when they're never around to actually _catch_ anyone?"

Clare nodded in agreement.

"So, have you talked to Eli?" Adam asked, changing the subject.

Her gaze faltered. "No, not yet."

Adam shot her an exasperated look. "Well, maybe you _should_. It's been three weeks, Clare… you're gonna have to eventually." He said knowingly. Then he titled his head to the side and smiled mischievously. "Now might be a good time."

Before Clare could say anything, a familiar voice sounded from behind.

"Clare!"

She narrowed her eyes at Adam, who merely shrugged nonchalantly in response, then threw his backpack over his shoulder and disappeared down the hall. Clare watched his retreating form until she sensed _him_ approach, and groaned. She started walking, refusing to glance back even when she heard her name being called. She ignored it - ignored _him_ - and quickened her pace. With any luck, she'd reach her math class before _he_ caught up to her.

It was cowardly, but she didn't want to deal with him right now. She wasn't ready, and so when she heard his footsteps closing in, she broke into an almost-run and got about halfway to her destination before she realized it was too late. Her stomach dropped when she felt his fingers curl around her wrist, bringing her to an abrupt halt.

"Clare, _stop_." He begged, panting heavily behind her. He was so close. _Too close_. She could smell his cologne; it intoxicated her senses and made her dizzy, to the point where she almost wanted to lean into him. She managed to catch herself in time, shaking her head furiously. His breath caressed the back of her neck, "Talk to me, Clare."

_'No!'_ Her mind screamed. _'No, no, no!'_

"Go away, Eli." She said stiffly, teeth clenched.

"Not until we talk." He countered, his grip tightening.

"There's nothing _to_ talk about, Eli. Now _let go of me_!" Clare tried to pry her wrist away from him, but with little avail.

"Damn it, Clare!" Eli released her suddenly, only to spin her around and plant his hands firmly on her shoulders. "Would you just _look_ at me?" He cried, desperation evident in his voice.

Clare lifted her head, glaring coldly at him all the while. She placed her hands over his.

"You could've _died_, Eli. Does that not register with you at all? You. Could. Have. _DIED_!" She hissed, letting her nails bite into his skin. She saw him wince, but he made no move to remove his hands. "And all because you were too stubborn to _let things go_!"

Eli's eyes flashed dangerously. "I told you -"

Clare cut him off.

"Look, Eli… I'm _sorry_ that you were bullied. I've _been_ there. I know what it's like to feel helpless and alone, and to have everyone just stand around and do _nothing_. But you… you can't just…" she blinked back the tears that were welling up, and took a deep breath, "Fitz was going to end the feud, Eli. All you had to do was apologize, and you didn't even have to _mean it_… but you and your _stupid_ pride… I don't know what I would've done if he had really killed -" she broke off, a choked sob escaping her throat, unable to keep herself composed any longer.

Eli caught her just as her knees buckled and she buried her face in his chest. He fell back against a nearby locker and slid to the floor, taking her with him as she continued to cry.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" Clare heard him whisper into her hair like a sacred mantra. "I'll never do it again… just please… give me another chance, Clare… _please_… I lo -"

He was interrupted by the third period bell. Stragglers hurriedly raced to their classes hoping to avoid punishment, leaving the hallway practically empty save for the two teenagers on the floor, locked in an embrace. After a few minutes, Clare calmed down and leaned back, sniffling and wiping her tear-stained cheeks. Eli reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling ruefully.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be." He told her, "I'm the one that's sorry. You were right. I should've listened to you. I'm an idiot."

"Yes, you are." Clare said.

"So… will you give this idiot a second chance?" He asked, holding her gaze, _pleading_.

Clare sighed. "Eli…"

"Clare, I messed up. _Really_ messed up. I _know_ that, and I thought about what you said before the break… and that's all I could think about. You deserve… _so_ much better… but I'm selfish, and… I want to be with you. More than anything." Eli swallowed hard and took her by the hand, lacing their fingers together. "I can't make any promises, but… I'll _try_. I mean it. If it'll make you happy. So _please_… give me another chance."

Clare stared at him for a long time, deliberating. She didn't know what to do. The easy way out would be to break up with him, but she didn't know if she could go through with that. As upset as she was, she _felt_ something for Eli. She wasn't going to deny that. Being with him was nothing short of exhilarating, but at the same time, she didn't know if she could handle any more incidents like what happened during Vegas Night. But if Eli was telling the truth, then…

"Okay," she nodded, watching his face practically light up. "_One more chance_. Don't let me down." She squeezed his hand reassuringly before rising to her feet.

Eli followed suit, and was about to open his mouth to say something when a stern voice interjected.

"I believe you two are supposed to be in class."

Clare inhaled sharply and whirled around, looking much like a deer caught in the headlights as her eyes landed on the Media Immersion teacher, Ms. Oh. The dark-haired woman crossed her arms expectantly.

"We were just… we were just…" Clare fumbled with her words, fidgeting uncontrollably before glancing at Eli, who was fairing a lot better than herself despite the circumstances.

"We were just on our way." He answered coolly.

"You're ten minutes late, Mr. Goldsworthy." Ms. Oh reminded him.

"We would've been on time, but… we… I mean, I… I lost my notes, and Eli was just… helping me find… them…" Clare bit her bottom lip, shrinking away from Ms. Oh's hardened stare.

"You may be a good student, Miss Edwards, but you're a terrible liar." She said, "Now, it is within my jurisdiction to give you both detentions for the next _month_… but I won't. Not today. If, however, I catch either of you two wandering these halls again while you're supposed to be in class, I won't go so easy on you. Do I make myself clear?"

Both teens nodded vigorously. "Yes, ma'am."

"It won't happen again." Clare added.

"It better not, or you'll be dealing with Principal Simpson next." Ms. Oh warned them, "Now get to class."

X

**And that's the end of chapter one. Sorry, no Fitz yet, but he **_**will**_** make an appearance in either the second or third chapter, depending. After that, he'll be playing a more prominent role in the story. As for pairings… it **_**will**_** primarily be EClare, and perhaps one-sided Flare, though the main focus of the plot will be about Fitz and Clare's growing friendship. So yeah.**

** Please give feedback! I love reading what you guys think, and remember… constructive criticism is always welcome. **


	2. Impulse

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. Or _Nineteen Eighty-Four_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews, guys. This chapter's for you. I hope you enjoy!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Impulse**_

X

"Okay, this is getting _way_ out of hand." Alli Bhandari huffed as she plopped down across from Clare, causing the redhead to glance up from her textbook and raise a questioning brow. "I mean, they're treating you like you have some kind of disease!" She motioned to the surrounding tables.

Correction: the surrounding _empty_ tables, because apparently most students would rather cram together and keep their distance than be seated anywhere _near_ her. Or her "freak" friends. Clare sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before smiling weakly at Alli.

"And yet, I can't help but notice that you're sitting with me."

Alli reeled back, looking more than a little offended, but her expression quickly melted into one of hurt. "Why wouldn't I? You're my friend…"

Clare grimaced, realizing her mistake instantly.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean -"

"No, it's fine. I probably deserved it." Alli took a deep breath, "I did kind of ditch you for Jenna. It wasn't personal or anything…"

"I know," Clare assured her, "Besides, it was bound to happen eventually. Friends just… drift apart sometimes. And it's not like you left me _alone_ or anything. I have Eli and Adam and…" she paused. She'd almost added Connor and Wesley and Dave, before it dawned on her that she hadn't spoken to any of them in months. Like Alli, they too had fallen off her radar, though seemingly more so. She couldn't even remember the last time she had so much as spared them a glance. A strange feeling enveloped her. Sadness? No. Nostalgia seemed more accurate.

She bit her lip, sifting through her mind, trying to recall names and faces when it then occurred to her that while she had plenty of acquaintances, there weren't many people she could actually call friends. Apart from Alli, Eli and Adam _were_ her friends.

Clare furrowed her brow. She expected to be more upset about such an epiphany, but she wasn't. She was perfectly okay with it.

"Hey! Earth to Clare!" Alli waved a hand in front of her face, drawing Clare out of her thoughts. "You totally spaced out there. What happened? Thinking about _Eli_?" She teased. When Clare shook her head, Alli continued, "Speaking of Eli… word has it he made you cry today. Do you want me to hurt him for you? We could give him the cold shoulder like we did with K.C. last year. Or I could ask Sav to beat him up."

Clare rolled her eyes. "Sav wouldn't beat him up and besides, that's not what happened. At least not all."

"There's _more_? Well, spill!" Alli propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands, waiting eagerly.

"Eli didn't make me cry. We were fighting and I got a little overwhelmed. That's all."

Not bothering to hide her disappointment, Alli's face fell. She perked up a few seconds later, this time with a new question. "And now?"

"And now, what?" Clare asked suspiciously.

"Are Doctor Doom and Saint Clare history?"

"Just the opposite." A small grin tugged at the corners of her lips.

The dark-haired girl blinked a few times, shook her head as if it was all too much to take in at once, and then held up a finger. "Okay, so let me get this straight. You guys fought, you cried, and now you're together again?"

"We talked it over."

Alli gave a disbelieving snort. "And I'm sure his oh-so-magical kisses had absolutely _nothing_ to do with persuading you." She said sardonically.

"Well, I wouldn't say _magical_, but… pretty close." An amused voice cut in.

Clare felt her cheeks burn as Eli appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and sat down beside her. An overly-confident smirk played across his lips, but before she could ask how long he'd been listening to her and Alli's conversation, her attention was drawn to Adam. She watched him glance around the cafeteria warily, like he was afraid he was going to get jumped the second he let his guard down, before sliding in next to Alli, who'd scooted over to make room for him.

"So… where's Jenna?" Clare asked, trying to change the topic.

"Not so fast… I'd like to hear more about my 'magical' kisses." Eli teased.

"Me too." Adam piped up, receiving a variety of looks from his companions ranging from amused to confused, and somewhere in between. His eyes went wide and he groaned. "Wait, I didn't mean it like _that_. I just meant - _stop laughing_, Eli! I'm not into you or anything, man."

"What can I say? I'm _irresistible_!"

"Don't you mean _insufferable_?"

Alli furrowed her brow as she turned to Adam.

"Wait, but aren't you a g -" she started, but yelped when Clare suddenly kicked her hard under the table. She glared at her.

"_Jenna_, Alli. You were saying?" Clare pressed.

"She had a doctor's appointment. She's getting an ultrasound done, to find out the baby's sex." Alli said through gritted teeth, leaning down to rub her shin.

Eli and Adam watched the exchange curiously, neither knowing quite what was going on, but the former quickly grew tired with being a spectator and nudged his friend with his foot.

"So… I take it Mama Torres had a hand in the 'no hat' rule too?" He said, noting Adam's missing beanie.

"Technically that was already a rule," Adam reminded him, "but before it was ignored. Now… not so much. Mom ransacked my room the other night and I haven't been able to find any of them since." He sighed.

Clare spared him a sympathetic glance just as Alli also turned to look at him, eyes sharp and brimming with hate.

"Your mom is a _bitch_," she hissed, nostrils flaring. Her whole body shook with anger. Then, without warning, she stood and stormed out of sight.

Adam buried his face in his hands. "I hate my life."

"Don't say that, man." Eli said softly. He looked to Clare for assistance.

"It's nothing personal, Adam." She assured him. "Alli just… says things without thinking. She's still upset about Drew, and with this whole uniform thing…" she combed her fingers through her hair, "School was supposed to be where she could express herself. Her parents are _really_ strict, and now that she can't do _that_…" she sighed. "She'll get over it eventually. Just give it a few more weeks."

Eli peered around the cafeteria. "I wonder how many other people feel the same."

Before Clare could respond, the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. Students piled out into the hallway, heading straight for their afternoon classes. Adam walked ahead, soon disappearing into the crowd while Eli lagged behind, falling into step with her. Clare smiled weakly at him, wishing she could hold his hand. She missed the feeling of his fingers intertwined with her own, but she knew that they'd only end up in even more trouble than they already were.

"Have you finished your community hours yet?" He asked after a while, as if reading her mind.

Clare nodded. "After I got back from visiting my grandma, I helped out at my church. I was going to tell Mr. Simpson after school. What about you?"

"I haven't even started." Eli confessed with a snort.

Clare frowned. "Maybe you should. Mr. Simpson's already mad as it is. We're lucky we weren't expelled."

"Well, I was kind of hoping to do them with you, but…" Eli started, but suddenly trailed off, becoming eerily quiet.

He came to an abrupt halt, right then and there, in the middle of the hallway. His body had gone rigid and the color had drained from his face as he stared ahead, completely lost in his own thoughts. It wasn't until Clare followed his gaze that her breath hitched, and she recognized just where they were. It was the same spot where he and Fitz had had their final confrontation; where Fitz had backed Eli into a corner and could have very well taken his life but didn't. She bit her lip when she saw the mark on the wall left behind from Fitz's knife, glaring at them; a reminder of what had taken place that night - the night that she had been forced to relive over and over again every time she closed her eyes.

One glance at Eli told her that he was going through the same thing. Worried, she reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. That seemed to snap him out of his trance, but he remained shaken, like he'd just seen a ghost. Clare tugged at his sleeve, leading him further down the hall and away from his nightmares.

"Have you heard anything?" He asked once they turned a corner, his voice barely audible.

"About what?" She murmured, even though she knew very well what - or rather, _who_ - he was talking about.

"Fitz."

Clare shook her head. "No, I haven't."

They were nearing their English class.

"They won't let him back, right? I mean, he brought a _knife_ to school. He's dangerous." He kept looking at her for reassurance, and Clare simply nodded numbly.

In actuality, she had no idea what was going to happen with Fitz. She didn't know what Mr. Simpson or the PTA or the school board was going to do about him. She didn't know if he'd been expelled or if he was still in jail or _anything_, really, and before she could contemplate any longer, she and Eli had reached their destination and were taking their seats. So Clare decided to put those thoughts on hold. It was probably for the best; for her sake, and for Eli's.

X

"Are you sure you don't want me to wait for you?" Eli asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. He watched his girlfriend open her locker and begin putting her books away. "I could drive you home… it really wouldn't be a problem."

"I'm _sure_," Clare answered for the umpteenth time since the final bell, retrieving her backpack and closing the door. "I'll call you later, though."

For a second, Eli looked like he wanted to ask her something, but decided against it. Instead he gave a nod, and then moved forward, only to draw back just as his lips were about to meet hers. He laughed nervously, running a hand through his dark hair. "Now, normally, this is the part where I would kiss you - and believe me, I want to - but…" he jerked his thumb in the direction of a not-so-hidden nearby camera, "Big Brother is watching us."

Clare smiled sheepishly. "Then you'll have to make it up to me, then, now won't you?"

Eli's eyes gleamed wickedly and mischief danced across his face, sending delightful sensations coursing throughout her veins.

"What do you have in mind?" He asked.

Clare smirked. "Surprise me."

With that, she bid him farewell and made her way down the hall.

The walk to Mr. Simpson's office was a long and stressful one, if only because her nerves were finally starting to kick in. The last she had actually _spoken_ to him had been on Vegas Night, and he'd been so angry. She'd never seen him so disappointed before, and the fact that _she_ was partially at fault made her feel even worse. She should've just _told_ him the truth about the stink bomb from the get go, but she hadn't, and now she was forced to deal with the consequences.

She wasn't sure how she was going to ever get his trust back, or any of the teachers' for that matter. No doubt they all thought she was a liar; a no good, rotten apple, doomed to fall through the cracks. Clare's stomach sunk and she chewed furiously at her bottom lip until it was raw and sore. When she finally reached the office, she was greeted by the secretary.

"I'm here to see Mr. Simpson," she said.

"He's with a parent right now, but he should be done soon." The secretary informed her.

Clare nodded and thanked her, sitting down in an empty chair. There was no one else around, and for that she was grateful. Minutes ticked by slowly; she passed the time by kicking her feet back and forth, and gnawing on the corner of her thumb.

When Mr. Simpson's office door opened at last, Clare instinctively stood up, but froze when she heard a woman's voice.

"_Please_, you have to let my son back in! No other school is going to take him!"

"Mrs. Fitzgerald…"

Clare's heart stopped. Fear coiled around her being, gripping tightly, making it difficult for her to move or even _breathe_, but curiosity got the better of her. She leaned forward, peering over a filing cabinet, and spotted Mr. Simpson in the doorway of his office. With him was a blonde woman who looked to be in her late thirties; she was tall and thin and sickeningly pale, and her hair seemed to be almost straw-like.

"… the PTA wants him expelled, but because he never actually _injured_ anyone, the school board is on the fence right now. However, it doesn't change the fact that Mark Fitzgerald brought a _weapon_ to school, and could have endangered the lives of the other students. This isn't his first offence, either." Mr. Simpson stated coldly, though Clare was taken aback when she noticed the pity in his eyes.

"So what is he supposed to do until then? I can't have him fall behind even more… he's already being held back a grade. Is there any way I could get a tutor -"

The Principal cut her off.

"Mrs. Fitzgerald, Mark brought a knife to school." He reminded her, "Chances are, the other students will only view him as a threat, or _worse_, try to inflict harm on _him_. It wouldn't be wise if…"

Clare didn't know what happened next, or what came over her. Perhaps it was the utter desperation in Mrs. Fitzgerald's voice or her frantic pleas, or maybe it was because she was almost on the verge of tears. Whatever it was, it enabled her to drown out Mr. Simpson and make her way over to the pair, and before she could stop herself…

"I'll do it."

The conversation ceased immediately and both adults turned to face their eavesdropper with puzzled expressions.

"Clare, what -" Mr. Simpson started, but Clare interrupted.

"I'll tutor Mark Fitzgerald."

X

**And that, my friends, is the end of chapter 2.**

** No Fitz yet, but he'll **_**definitely**_** be in the next one - I'm already writing up the draft, so I know this for sure. That said, I **_**did**_** give you a glimpse of his mommy. Yay or nay?**

** Also, who caught my lovely reference to **_**Nineteen Eighty-Four**_**? I figure Eli (and Clare, for that matter) would've read it, and it definitely fits into the whole "police state" that is their current school environment. Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoyed the chapter.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think! And remember: constructive criticism is always welcome.**


	3. Tutor

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: It makes me so happy to know that people are enjoying this. Admittedly, I wasn't sure how it was going to take since, well… a lot of people don't like Fitz, and I'm portraying him in a positive light. That said, if you've read "Monster" or have seen my posts on FanForum's Degrassi threads, you should already know how I feel about Fitz's character.

Moving on, I'd like to thank my fellow Fitz and Flare (or Clitz, if you prefer) fans over at FanForum - there are a few of us, but our numbers seem to be growing - who have been helping me brainstorm, and have just been very supportive from the beginning. So, thank you so much guys, and this next chapter is for you.

Now that I'm done rambling… enjoy!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Tutor**_

X

To say that Mr. Simpson was less than thrilled about the idea would be an understatement. He was completely _against_ it - it didn't take a genius to figure _that_ out; it was practically etched across his face. However, before he could actually _voice_ his disapproval, Mrs. Fitzgerald had already begun to express her gratitude. She had all but flung her arms around Clare, showering her with "thank you's" and acting like the teen was an angel sent from _God_ - something that made the latter more than a little uncomfortable, if she were to be perfectly honest with herself.

In any case, the entire display seemed to change Mr. Simpson's mind, since he eventually stopped trying to protest. Apparently he couldn't bring himself to crush Mrs. Fitzgerald's spirits, either.

Once the older woman finally regained her composure, Clare was sent out into the hallway while Mrs. Fitzgerald and Mr. Simpson resumed their conversation in private. With the door closed, their voices were muffled and she could only scarcely make out what they were saying, but that was probably the intent. When straining to hear them became too tiring, she simply gave up and decided to keep herself entertained with thoughts of Eli.

It wasn't hard. Their talk in the hallway earlier had left her quite anxious about what he was planning to do to "surprise" her, and judging from the mischievous glint in his eyes, he already had something up his sleeve. A few scenarios came to mind, but left her blushing shamefully and silently cursing Alli for ever getting her hooked on the _Fortnight_ series.

So absorbed in her thoughts, Clare didn't even notice Mrs. Fitzgerald emerge from the office until she was standing right in front of her.

"Thinking about a _boy_?" The blonde woman remarked playfully. When Clare glanced up at her, shocked, she merely laughed. "Don't worry about it. I was a teenager too, once - I know what it's like to have boys on the brain twenty-four-seven."

Clare flushed and hurriedly got to her feet, adjusting her skirt in the process. "S-sorry…"

Mrs. Fitzgerald waved her hand dismissively.

"What for? _Hormones_? Like I said, don't worry about it." She assured her, before her entire demeanour shifted. "Mr. Simpson would like to talk to you, but before I leave, there's something I need to…" she trailed off and began digging through her purse, pulling out a receipt and a pen. She jotted something down quickly on the back before handing it over to Clare. "That's our address. I hope to see you soon." She gave a half smile. "Thank you so much."

With that, she turned on her heel and made her way down the hall. Clare waited until she was no longer in her line of vision before stuffing the receipt into her backpack and heading back inside.

Mr. Simpson was already waiting for her when she entered his office. She took a seat across from him. He didn't say anything at first which made her nervous all over again. She pursed her lips together, her fingers fisting the material of her skirt tightly.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, unable to take the silence anymore. "I didn't mean to listen in… I shouldn't have… it wasn't my place to…" Her mind was racing. She knew she was rambling; she couldn't even string together a coherent sentence, "But she just sounded so… and I couldn't _not_ say anything… and -"

"Clare," Mr. Simpson spoke finally, cutting her off. "Calm down. Take a deep breath and _relax_."

Clare nodded and did just that, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. She repeated the exercise until she was at ease again, before hesitantly glancing back up at Mr. Simpson.

"Your offer to tutor Mark Fitzgerald was… well, unexpected, although maybe I should have seen it coming. _However_, it _has_ put me in a bit of a dilemma." He told her.

Clare furrowed her brow. "I don't have some kind of hidden agenda, if that's what you mean."

"I never said you did."

"No, but you were thinking it!" She accused angrily, immediately clamping a hand over her mouth. She cringed and bowed her head, lowering her arm in the process. "That was out of line… I'm sorry."

"It was," Mr. Simpson noted, clearly taken aback by her outburst. "And if it were anyone else, they'd probably be in detention. But… I know you're a good kid, Clare, and I know that you mean well. The world needs more people like you… really." His face quickly became serious once more. "As for your accusation… you're not far off the mark. It's going to be a _long_ time before I can trust you guys again. I hope you realize that."

Clare nodded guiltily.

"Yeah… I know." She murmured.

"That said," Mr. Simpson continued, "I was actually more concerned about _you_."

"What do you mean?" Clare asked.

"Well, I know that you were in the hallway when Mark had the knife, and even though no one was hurt… I know that an incident like that can put someone through a lot of emotional turmoil. I've seen it happen countless times." He said.

"I'm fine," she assured him, "it's not like he tried to attack _me_."

_'Just Eli.'_ A voice rang in the back of her mind, and an image from that night flashed before her eyes. She shook her head, trying to erase it.

"If you say so," Mr. Simpson replied, observing her carefully. "But Clare, I just want you to know that if there's _anything_ you need to talk about… you can always make an appointment with one of the councillors. They _do_ listen. It's better than bottling things up."

"I'm _fine_," Clare repeated, growing slightly agitated. Fortunately, she was able to keep her tone under control.

Mr. Simpson nodded.

"Okay," he said, "and you're _sure_ you want to tutor Mark? It's not to late to back out. I could call Mrs. Fitzgerald right now and tell her -"

"Mr. Simpson, I'm sure. One hundred and one percent. I can do this."

Mr. Simpson waited for her to give away any sign of uncertainty. When she didn't, he nodded in defeat.

"Alright, then. But first, I'd like to go over a few rules with you…"

X

_She is gorgeous._

_ Even lying beneath him, face flushed and hair dishevelled, she is still the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and the only one who has ever made his stomach do cartwheels._

_ Best of all, she's his girl. Not Emo Boy's or some dumb jock's - _his_. It's _his_ name she whispers when he attacks her neck with kisses, suckling and nipping greedily, drawing mewls from her pink lips. It's music to his ears and he can't get enough._

_ "Oh… oh, please…" she begs breathlessly, arching her back and pressing her hips into his. "Don't stop… don't ever stop… oh, take me now…"_

_ He pulls back to look down at her curiously. "Seriously?"_

_ She nods. "Yes."_

_ He doesn't waste time, practically tearing off their clothes and discarding them. She blushes furiously as he takes in the sight before him, and glances up at him with her wide blue eyes, crossing her arms self-consciously over her chest._

_ "Don't stare…"_

_ He smirks. "Why? You're beautiful."_

_ If possible, she blushes even more, but slowly lets her arms fall. He swallows with anticipation, shifting around until he's hovering over her once more on his bed. She bites her bottom lip shyly._

_ "I've never done this before…" she confesses, "Please be gentle…"_

oOo

"FUCK!"

Mark Fitzgerald awoke with a start, gasping for air and drenched in a cold sweat. His entire body ached, and his clothes clung to his skin uncomfortably, but it wasn't until he moved to sit up that he felt a familiar throbbing between his legs. When he lifted his sheets, he could only groan and fall back against the headboard. In an instant, flashes of his dream came back to him, and he could vividly recall _her_ writhing beneath him, begging and moaning, curls matted to her flushed face and milky thighs wrapped tightly around his waist.

He shuddered at the thought, before slipping a hand into his boxers to relieve himself. It wasn't difficult; with the dream still fresh in his mind, he brought himself to a quick release, with _her_ name on his lips. Then he slumped back, more than a little disgusted with himself, and just glared at the cracked wall across from him.

Clare _fucking_ Edwards. He just couldn't seem to get her out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. And he wanted to. He wanted so badly to put her out of his mind for good; to forget about her and her _freak_ Tranny friend and _especially_ her damn _fucking_ boyfriend. He wanted to _hate_ her - hate _all_ of them - but no. He couldn't. Not completely, and he didn't know _why_ and that pissed him off more than anything apart from the dreams themselves.

_Fuck it. Fuck it all._

Shaking his head, Fitz cleaned up the mess he'd made and got out of bed. He stumbled over the empty beer bottles that littered his floor on his way into the hall before making his way to the kitchen. The clock on the microwave blinked "4:27" and he swore under his breath again, having slept most of the day away. His mom would be _pissed_, but thankfully she wasn't home yet. But _damn it_, there wasn't a lot he could do when he was under house arrest, and with no cable and no computer, he had find other means of entertainment. Sleep was one of them, but then there were his step-dad's old _Playboy_ mags… which, unfortunately, didn't work as well as they had back when he was thirteen.

He sighed and opened the fridge. As usual, there wasn't a lot to choose from. Plenty of alcohol, though, but _Phil_ didn't really like it when he drank his beer. Fitz rolled his eyes. Sure, he had enough money when it came to his booze, but when it came to the electricity bill, it was, _"Abby, you know I'm broke. Maybe if your _son _quit screwing around and got a job…"_ He slammed the door shut and decided to raid the cupboards instead, grabbing a box of _Pop Tarts_.

Fucking hypocrite. Fucking, _fucking_ hypocrite. He didn't get why his mom had married Phil. He was a deadbeat asshole who spent more time at the bar than he did at home. He hadn't had a job in years. Who the hell was he to talk?

Suddenly the door opened. Fitz glanced over to see his mother step through the threshold, with McDonalds in hand. He pushed the Pop Tarts aside and looked at her once more, furrowing his brow. There were dark circles under her eyes, but despite being clearly worn out, she appeared to be a lot happier than she'd been when she left earlier that morning.

"Did you win the lottery or something?" He asked.

"Ha ha, you're hilarious." She deadpanned, kicking off her heels and walking over.

She kissed him on the forehead and set his dinner in front of him.

"I don't have time to make anything, so I just got you McDonalds." She said, sparing a glance at the clock. "I have to be back at work in twenty minutes."

"Yeah, yeah," Fitz muttered, waving his hand dismissively. "Besides, it's not like there's anything _to_ make to begin with."

Abby Fitzgerald narrowed her eyes at her son, a clear warning to _watch his tone with her_, before heading over to the fridge to check for herself. He heard her curse and then sigh, trying to figure something out. In the meantime, Fitz devoured his burger and started on his fries, casting worried looks at his mother every few minutes to make sure that she didn't suffer a meltdown or something.

"So…" he said after a while, trying to change the subject. "What were you smiling about when you came in?"

Immediately, her face brightened up.

"Oh, that. Well, I paid a visit to your school…"

Fitz arched an eyebrow. "Yeah? And what? Am I expelled?"

Abby frowned, running her fingers through her hair.

"You say it like you _expect_ that…" she said sadly, "It's… complicated… a final decision still has to be made, but… I did manage to get you a tutor so that you wouldn't fall more behind…"

"A _tutor_?" Fitz echoed disbelievingly.

His mother nodded.

"Yeah! Someone was nice enough to offer. Your Principal was certainly surprised, but he did agree to it…" She trailed off briefly before looking back at him. "Now, I don't want you messing things up, Mark. You're already in enough trouble as it is. I don't want you to be expelled… if you assert yourself, maybe we can… convince the school board to give you another chance, or something." She sighed, exasperated, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I don't know, but… just _really_ try, okay Mark? I _know_ you can do this."

"Who is it?" Fitz asked, completely disregarding everything else she'd said.

"_'Yes, mom. I'll do my best.'_"

He rolled his eyes. 

"Okay, fine! I'll try!" He snapped. "Now tell me who it is, mom!"

"Don't raise your voice, Mark. It's rude." Abby reprimanded, narrowing her eyes dangerously. He swallowed hard and nodded. Her smile returned. "Good. Now that we've come to an understanding… ah, oh, what was her name… shit! It's on the tip of my tongue! Cute little thing, too. Oh…" she clicked her tongue, racking her brain for a name to put to the face, but kept coming up empty. After a few minutes, she simply gave up and shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, it must've slipped my mind."

Fitz groaned. "_Mom_!"

"Why does it even matter? She offered to help you!" His mother retorted, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "In any case, she's coming over on Friday, so _please_ be up by then. No more sleeping in."

Damn. He'd been caught.

"Whatever," he muttered, folding his arms stubbornly across his chest.

His mother looked about ready to lecture him again, but stopped when she noticed the time. "Shit. Listen, Mark, I have to go back to work, but just think about what I said, okay?"

With that, she leaned down and pecked him on the forehead once more before making a mad dash out the door. As soon as she was gone, Fitz sunk in his seat.

He had a bad feeling about this.

X

**So… not to fond of this chapter, but I'm tired and sick, so… I'll blame it on that. Hopefully you guys enjoyed, though.**

** Also… apparently Eli's been suspended? Whatever. That's not the case for this fic.**

** So Fitz basically (subconsciously) puts Clare on a sort of pedestal and doesn't really want to acknowledge her flaws, hence why **_**his**_** Dream Clare is the way that she is. For some reason, I imagine that **_**Eli's**_** Dream Clare would be more assertive and forward, whereas Fitz's… more submissive and virtuous, I guess. Don't ask me why. **

** Anyway, what do you guys think about Fitz's interaction with his mom? It was kind of short, I know, and again, I'm sick so… I don't even know. I just hope that you guys don't hate it or anything.**

** In any case, please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think! Constructive Criticism is always welcome.**


	4. Surprise

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: So the new promo has me super excited. October 8th needs to get here, like now. Seriously. The suspense is going to _kill me_ soon. And I heard Fitz will be returning, which makes me all sorts of happy.

Anyway, thank you guys so much for the reviews. Here's chapter 4!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Surprise**_

X

They were arguing again.

What about, Clare didn't know, nor did she stick around long enough to find out. Instead, she'd gone straight to her room and turned on her music, found Eli's headphones and tried to drown the yelling out. She kept herself distracted with homework until her thoughts drifted to earlier.

Mr. Simpson had given her a brief rundown of Fitz's situation; explained to her that he was out of jail, but currently under house arrest. When that was over - which would be soon - he would be put on parole and given a strict curfew. If his behaviour and grades improved, there was a possibility that he would even be let back into Degrassi, but chances were very slim - Fitz didn't exactly have the cleanest record, and nobody changed over night. Mr. Simpson told her not to get her hopes up or blame herself if things didn't work out, and Clare had assured him that she wouldn't.

What Clare _didn't_ tell him was that she was already having doubts, but she didn't want to admit _that_, least of all to Mr. Simpson.

Sure, there was that short talk they'd had in the hallway where Clare was certain she'd seen a softer side of Fitz, but she couldn't imagine him just _giving up_ his "Neanderthal" - as Eli had once so eloquently put it - ways and becoming some kind of model citizen. She didn't expect him to, either, and she had a feeling that he was going to be far from happy when he found out that _she_ was going to be tutoring him. They hadn't exactly parted on pleasant terms.

Still, Clare kept these worries to herself, and after managing to convince Mr. Simpson _again_ that no, she did _not_ have any ulterior motives for volunteering to tutor Fitz - which she didn't - he'd finally dismissed her.

But not before she'd informed him that she had finished her community hours, which is why she had come to his office in the first place, and given him the sheet signed by her Christian Youth Group leaders as proof.

Then she'd hurried home, only to find her parents at each other's throats. It almost made her wish that she had taken her _precious_ time getting there, just so she wouldn't have had to walk in on it. Either way, they were too busy shouting at one another that they didn't even ask her why she was late. She didn't even think they'd _noticed_ her.

A loud **slam** jerked her from her reverie, shaking the pictures on the walls. Clare lowered her headphones just in time to hear her dad's car pulling out of the driveway. She knew he wouldn't be back that night, and if her mother's quiet sobs were any indication, she wasn't the only one. She was tempted to go downstairs and check on her, but stayed rooted in place, blinking back tears and swallowing the lump in her throat.

She spent the next couple of hours concentrating on homework and surfing the internet - anything to keep her mind off her parents. She'd just finished reading through Eli's essay when her stomach rumbled, and she remembered that she hadn't eaten since lunch. A quick glance at her clock told her that that had been hours ago; it was already seven-thirty. The sky was getting dark.

Just as she was about to head down to the kitchen, however, she heard a light _tap_ at her window. Her brow furrowed and she turned around, making her way over and peering down. Her eyes widened when she saw Eli standing there, gazing up at her - Morty was nowhere in sight. Clare quickly pushed up the window and stuck her head out.

"Eli!" She hissed disbelievingly, "What are you doing here?"

The other teen smirked. "Oh, you know, I was just in the neighbourhood and decided to drop by. Surprised to see me, my dearest Juliet?"

Clare rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the smile tugging at her lips.

"That depends. Are you going to recite Shakespeare to me?" She teased.

"Do you _want_ me to?" He countered, "Because I totally will. Wish you would've told me earlier, though - I would've worn tights."

"_That's_ quite the image." She laughed.

"Isn't it?" He said smugly, "Still… as fun as it'd be, right now I'd rather be up there _with_ you."

Clare smiled lopsidedly. "Me too, but alas… I'm not allowed to have boys in my room."

Eli's face fell briefly before he glanced back up at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Well, you could always come down _here_…"

Clare bit her lip hesitantly. His offer was tempting, but she knew that if her mom came to check on her and she wasn't there, she'd be in _huge_ trouble. On the other hand… she and Eli had a lot to catch up on, and she _really_ wanted to get out of the house for a while. Coming to a decision, she signalled for Eli to wait while she slipped back into her bedroom. She grabbed her purse and a pair of shoes, pausing momentarily to fix her hair in the mirror before rushing back to the window ledge and swinging one leg over. She felt around for the trellis below and when she found it, she carefully lifted the rest of her body out and proceeded to slowly climb down.

Eli caught her by the waist just before her feet touched the ground, holding her tightly against him.

"You know, there's this thing called a door…" He remarked jokingly, his breath tickling her ear.

"Yeah, but I think my mom would've noticed me sneaking out the front door. Our floorboards are old, so they creak." She said, "Besides, I was feeling…"

"Adventurous?" He finished, turning her around to face him.

"I was going to say _rebellious_, but that works too." She smiled playfully.

Eli's eyes twinkled. "So… what now?"

"I'm sure… we could think of something…" Clare replied, staring at his lips. "But first… could we stop by somewhere to eat? I haven't had dinner yet."

"Sure. How does The Dot sound?" He asked.

"That's… kind of far…" She said, brows knitting together. "Wait… did you _walk_ here?"

Eli snorted.

"Are you kidding me? No way. I drove."

"But then where's -"

"I parked down the street. Now c'mon, Plath… let's get you something to eat."

oOo

About twenty minutes later, Clare found herself sitting in the back of Morty while Eli searched for a place to park. After getting a bite to eat, they'd spent the next little while just driving around aimlessly with no particular destination in mind. Finally, Eli turned off the ignition and crawled into the back with her.

"So…" Clare began, watching him get comfortable, "you just _happened_ to be in the neighbourhood, huh?"

Eli threw her a smirk.

"Hey, I seem to recall you wanting me to _surprise_ you," he reminded her. "And besides, you weren't answering your phone…"

Clare's eyes widened and she looked away guiltily.

"Sorry," she said, "I had a lot on my mind."

"Me?" He guessed.

"Cocky, much?" She laughed.

"_Very_." He replied smugly, before his face became serious. "So what's really going on?"

Clare sighed, letting her head fall back against the seat. She hated how he could read her like an open book. It made it nearly impossible to keep anything from him, and meanwhile _he_ could just turn off his emotions at the drop of a hat. It wasn't fair. She'd snuck out with him in order to _escape_ her home life, if only for a few hours, and now…

"It's okay," Eli's voice interrupted her thoughts, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, it's… probably better if I do…" she said sensibly, remembering what Mr. Simpson had told her earlier about bottling things up. She glanced over at her boyfriend. "My parents are fighting again."

Immediately, she could see the regret in his eyes, and he promptly averted his gaze.

"Oh. Are you… okay?" He asked.

"Yeah… I'm getting used to it…" She lied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "The headphones help."

"That's good. Listen, Clare -"

"Can we not talk about it, though?" She cut him off before he could ask anymore questions.

Eli closed his mouth, nodding in understanding. "Of course."

Clare smiled gratefully.

The silence that followed was unbearable. Only a couple of minutes had passed, but it felt like so much longer, and eventually Clare couldn't take it anymore.

"Eli -" She finally spoke, glancing up at him.

However, before she could finish her sentence, a pair of warm lips covered her own. Her brain ceased to function right then and there, but once Clare got over her shock, she closed her eyes and began to respond. It started out slowly, almost tentatively, but soon grew more passionate. She quickly realized that it wasn't like the others they'd shared - she could feel Eli pouring _everything_ into his kiss. It was beyond words; not something she could quite comprehend, at least not yet, and before she could contemplate further, Eli pulled away for air.

"Wow," she said breathlessly.

Eli smirked. "Was that _magical_ enough for you?"

Clare's cheeks went pink, and she made a mental note to berate Alli the next time she saw her about keeping her mouth shut in public, _especially_ when Eli was around. His ego didn't need to get any bigger than it already was, even if his kisses _were_ amazing. She spared him a brief glance - he was still wearing that cocky grin. Clare wanted to wipe it clean off.

Overcome with determination, she mirrored Eli's expression, inching closer and placing her hands on his shoulders. She let her lips brush across his, only to pull back, noting the startled look on his face. A wave of confidence washed over her and she couldn't help bur raise a challenging brow, then leaned in and kissed him again, only this time she didn't pull away.

He responded eagerly, shifting closer so that their bodies were practically pressed together, hands resting on her hips. His lips moved against hers expertly - unlike her, he knew exactly what he was doing, and when his tongue darted out and grazed her bottom lip, Clare had no idea how to react. Her mind drew a blank. Eli promptly took control, gently coaxing her mouth open. When his tongue met hers, Clare went rigid; it was such a strange and foreign sensation, but she didn't protest, and after a while, her fear melted away and she relaxed.

"E-Eli?" She questioned when his lips left hers, only to find her neck.

Clare tilted her head back, fingers lacing through his hair as he sucked greedily at her exposed skin. She bit back a whimper. Her body felt like it was on fire.

"Eli," she managed to force out, trying to keep her breathing steady but with little avail. "Eli, we… we should probably stop… _Eli_…" When he didn't comply, she gave his hair a hard tug.

Eli groaned against her throat, a mixture of pain and pleasure, before bringing his lips back up to meet hers and then reluctantly parting.

"Aw, do we _have_ to stop?" He whined.

Clare smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Romeo, but I need to get home before my mom realizes I'm gone."

Well, that was _part_ of the reason. She'd also made a vow to save herself until marriage, but when she was with Eli, her resolve seemed to vanish and she found herself… reconsidering certain choices. She simply couldn't trust herself around him, and she didn't want to end up doing anything that she would regret. He didn't need to know that, though. Not yet, anyway.

"I guess you're right." Eli agreed, looking thoroughly disappointed. He made his way to the front of the hearse.

Clare followed closely behind, climbing into the passenger's seat. When she was situated, she reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze.

He smiled weakly at her and squeezed back.

oOo

If her mother knew she had ever been gone, she never said anything, and Clare didn't know whether to be relieved or troubled. She decided not to think about it, though - much. She had other pressing matters to deal with, anyway; like the situation at school, and tutoring Fitz and _how_ she was going to actually _tell_ Eli. She had meant to the night she snuck out, but it had completely slipped her mind. She wasn't sure how she was going to break it to him. He was going to be _furious_.

So she prolonged it, busying herself with schoolwork instead, and _hoping_ that he didn't notice that she was keeping something from him. It seemed to work - he never asked, though there was always a possibility that he thought it was about her parents and was waiting for _her_ to come to _him_, rather than prying.

She didn't, and a week later - after still not telling Eli about her decision to essentially help his nemesis get back into school - Clare was standing at the latter's door.

He lived in a part of town that she wasn't particularly familiar with, in an apartment complex that had definitely seen better days. The elevator had been "out of service" which resulted in her having to walk up six flights of stairs, and _then_ she'd spent the next few minutes wandering down the halls.

Eventually, she found the address she was searching for and knocked.

She heard movements coming from inside, and then the sound of fumbling locks before finally, the door swung open and there stood Mark Fitzgerald, practically towering over her with a look of disbelief etched across his face.

"Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me…"

X

**Such language!**

** Well, that's chapter 4. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please ****REVIEW**** and remember: constructive criticism is always welcome!**

** I'm not sure what else to say, so I'll leave it at that.**


	5. Indignation

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Lack of reviews made me a sad cookie.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Indignation**_

X

No.

No… no… no…no…_ NO_!

He couldn't believe it - didn't _want_ to believe it.

Why, why, _why_ did it have to be _her_ of _all_ people?

Fitz's head was reeling. A part of him wanted to flip her off and slam the door in her face, hoping she would take the hint - but he couldn't even do _that_. His body was paralyzed, and he didn't know if it was from shock or anger or both, but he was gripping the threshold so tightly that he could hear wood splintering. Worst of all, though, was that he found himself staring into Clare Edwards' wide blue eyes - the same eyes that haunted his dreams - and getting lost in them.

And it was just so fucking cliché that it made him sick. He felt like such a _pansy_. A few months ago he'd been ragging on lovesick idiots like Johnny and Guthrie, and now he was one of them? What kind of bullshit was that?

Except Fitz wasn't in love or anything.

Fuck that.

Oh, that wasn't to say that he didn't want to hook up with her. He'd practically told her so on Vegas Night - _in theory_.

But that was really all there was to it, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted _that_ still. After all, Clare Edwards, for all her naivety, was part of the reason he could be facing expulsion. Yet, she had the balls to show up on his doorstep, and now he found himself trapped in some kind of staring contest with her, and both of them were too damn stubborn to look away. Girls like her, he mused, all strong-willed and determined… were a bit of a double-edged sword. On one hand, he could admire (to an extent, of course) that they weren't complete doormats who let guys walk all over them, but on the other hand… they just didn't know when to quit, and that was annoying.

So he continued to stare at her and vice-versa, all the while losing track of time until finally, Fitz found his voice again.

"What do _you_ want?" He spat.

Clare's gaze faltered for a split second, but she quickly regained her previous stance, masking her hesitation with a cool and calculating expression.

"Didn't your mom tell you?" She asked, planting a hand on her hip. "I'm your tutor."

"Like hell you are," he grit out.

He moved to close the door, but Clare must have seen his reaction coming because she promptly stuck out her foot to stop it. He glared at her, and she raised a challenging brow in response - one that frustrated him to no end. A defeated sigh left his lips and he stepped aside to let her in. She grinned triumphantly and slipped past him before he could change his mind.

After locking the door, Fitz dragged himself over to the living room. Clare followed closely behind, conspicuously taking in her unfamiliar surroundings as she did so. Fitz rolled his eyes, settling down in his step-dad's recliner - Phil wasn't home, but then, that wasn't anything new. He only ever came home when he needed cash from his hardworking _wife_, who was the only reason that they all still had a home. Fitz shook his head, trying not to get riled up, and focused his attention on his guest, watching as Clare stood around looking so completely out of her element.

He motioned to the couch beside him and she took a seat, eyeing the empty beer cans that littered the coffee table. He could only imagine what she was thinking.

"Don't act all high and mighty," he wanted to say, but held his tongue and turned away instead.

In truth, he probably should've cleaned up a bit, but then, those weren't his beer cans, so it wasn't his problem. Still, it wasn't like he could take her to _his_ room - it was a pigsty, and reeked of leftover pizza and pot that Owen had been _kind_ enough to drop off once he got out of jail. It was no place for someone as prim and proper and _pure_ as Clare Edwards, who had probably never seen a joint in her life.

The sound of rustling fabric drew him out of his reverie, and he glanced over just as Clare was unzipping her backpack.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Sitting around doing nothing isn't getting us anywhere," she replied, fishing through her bag. "I'm your tutor and I plan to be just that."

Fitz scoffed. "Yeah? And what if I don't want your help?"

"Then tell that to your mother and I'll gladly leave you alone."

Fitz's eyes flashed dangerously. He was on his feet before Clare could even react, looming over her seated form. She stared up at him with wide eyes.

"What the hell do you know about my mom?" He snapped, clenching his fists. "You don't know shit! She doesn't know half the stuff that went down on Vegas Night! I haven't even told her that you -!" He broke off, having revealed too much already.

"That I what?" Clare asked softly.

Fitz threw his head back, laughing bitterly.

"Let me put it this way: I wouldn't be _here_ if it wasn't for _you_."

"_What_?" Clare cried, not even hiding her outrage. "You're blaming _me_? How is this _my_ fault?"

"Because you're a lying _bitch_!" Fitz snarled, pinning her against the couch. She gasped and instinctively shrunk away from him. "Does 'ancient Roman custom' ring a bell?"

Realization dawned on Clare's face instantly, followed by guilt.

"That was -" she started, but Fitz cut her off.

"Or how about ratting me out to Simpson?"

"You were going to stab Eli! What was I supposed to do?" She shrieked desperately.

"NO! I! WASN'T!" He shouted, and pulled back. "_Fuck_!" Fitz's whole body was shaking; he ran a hand through his hair, and began to pace back and forth, trying to calm himself down. When he managed to regain his composure, he rounded on Clare once more - Clare, who was practically cowering on his sofa, watching him with fearful eyes. The persistent girl from earlier was gone. She was afraid - of _him_. Whatever pent-up anger left pulsing through his veins seemed to vanish then. "Trust me, Clare." He said weakly, "If I wanted Emo Boy dead… he would be."

Clare shot him an incredulous look. "Then why did you -"

"I just wanted him off my _fucking_ back, _okay_?" Fitz snapped. "I wasn't even going to hurt him!"

"Oh, well you could've fooled me!" The redhead retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Fitz glared coldly at her.

"I could say the same about you, _Saint Clare_." His anger had come back tenfold. "You have the entire school thinking you're Little Miss _Perfect_! Clare Edwards, goody-two-shoes extraordinaire! Smart, pretty, _and_ pure… you're like every teacher's wet dream." He sneered, thoroughly enjoying the way her nostrils flared as she tried to control her temper. "You've got the entire school thinking you're all innocent, but you're nothing but a _lying_, manipulative little _bitch_."

The events of Vegas Night flashed in his mind briefly, and only fuelled the rage coursing through him.

"Tell me, are you really a virgin? Or is that all part of your act too? Does Eli know? Did you give it up to _him_? I bet you let him fuck you any which way he pleases; I mean, you practically worship the fucking ground he walks on. You'd do anything for him, wouldn't you? If he told you to get on your knees and suck him off, you wouldn't think twice about -"

Before he could finish, the side of his face exploded with pain.

oOo

Clare didn't know what had come over her. One minute, she was being bombarded with insults and the next…

She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp.

She had hit someone. She had actually _hit_ someone, and not just _any_ someone, but Mark Fitzgerald - the same someone she was supposed to be helping. The same someone whose very future was practically resting on _her_ shoulders. But right now she was just too angry - too overwhelmed with fury that she couldn't even bring herself to care all that much.

Fitz stared wide-eyed at her, just as stunned as she was.

That was satisfying, if only a little. She was still mad, however, and couldn't trust herself.

"This was a mistake," Clare muttered, turning away from her boyfriend's tormentor. "I shouldn't have come."

Gathering her belongings, she swung her backpack over her shoulder and was about to make her way over to the door when Fitz caught her by the wrist.

"Clare, wait."

She narrowed her eyes and yanked her arm away.

"No."

Then she left.

X

**You all probably hate me right now, don't you? Don't worry, there's more… but I decided to leave it off where I did because I'm feeling particularly cruel right now. And also, I'm still bitter that I only got 3 reviews last chapter. I know, I know… childish, right? But seriously… I love reading what you guys think. It's helpful and encouraging! And I also like having my ego stroked, but that's an entirely different story, haha.**

** Anyway, please ****REVIEW**** and I'll update ASAP. Possibly over the weekend. See? You won't even have to wait a whole week this time!**


	6. Breached Walls

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Wow, thank you so much for the reviews. You guys are the best!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Breached Walls**_

X

Fitz flinched as the door slammed shut with a loud **bang**, but didn't take his eyes away from the spot where Clare had been standing not even ten seconds before. He was trapped in a daze, his limbs slack, replaying the last few minutes in his mind over and over again. It was all he _could_ do - to make himself numb to the memory, so that when he thought back to it some days, weeks, months, _years_ down the road, he wouldn't have to _feel_. He would be able to scoff at it, at himself, and at _her_ for getting so damn worked up, and over what? The _truth_?

… okay, maybe not. Clare wasn't the kind of girl who slept around. She wasn't like the girls that _he_ hung out with. She was better than them; she was smart, pretty, nice… and just _good_. That's what had drawn him to her in the first place. But after the train wreck that was their first "date"… he wasn't sure what to think of her anymore. Was she really _that_ naïve, or was her whole personality an act? A trick, to lure guys like _him_ in, make him let his guard down, and when he least expected it - _stab him in the back_.

Fitz clenched his jaw.

_Fuck_.

No matter how many times he repeated that memory, it still felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He could practically taste the bile in his throat every time he thought about it, and smell the vomit on his clothes, even after three weeks.

He shook his head and pushed _that_ memory aside. In doing so, though, his thoughts only drifted back to the confrontation that had just taken place - in his own fucking home, to boot. Guilt coiled around his heart like a snake its dinner, squeezing and squeezing until he could barely breathe. He hated it. He hated feeling guilty; for feeling like _shit_ because of what he had said to Clare, but most of all for knowing _exactly_ how his mother was going to react when she found out that his tutor wouldn't be returning.

Fitz's stomach lurched; he began to pace frantically, biting down on his knuckle as he pictured the look on his mother's face when he told her, "Sorry, Ma, Clare's not coming back 'cause I called her a slut." A frustrated sound escaped his throat and he fought the urge to rip his hair out. He'd already seen enough of _that look_ when she had to bail him out after being arrested, using money that he _knew_ they didn't have. It was a look that he should've been used to by now, but he _wasn't_, and every time she looked at him _like that_, all disappointed and sad, it fucking _hurt_, damn it.

She had been so happy when she left earlier that morning. He didn't know if he could stand to see her disappointed in him again.

With that in mind, Fitz made a mad dash towards the door, yanking it open and breaking into a run as soon as he stepped out into the hallway. He ignored the burning in his lungs and muscles as he raced down six flights of stairs, never once slowing down.

Lady Luck finally reared her head when he reached the lobby and spotted Clare out of the corner of his eye, sitting on the steps just outside the building. Fitz let out a breath of relief and made his way over, pushing the door open and leaning against it.

"Clare,"

oOo

With her knees drawn to her chest and chin resting on folded arms, Clare gazed at the variety store across the street, lost in thought. How could she have been stupid enough to think that she could even be in the same _room_ as Mark Fitzgerald, let alone _tutor_ him when he so obviously didn't want it?

Angry tears pricked her eyes as she thought back to what he had said - _yelled_ - during their fight. Her blood boiled. How _dare_ he insinuate that she would do that sort of thing? What gave him the right to judge her like that? What did he know of her relationship with Eli, or _her_ for that matter? They'd never even spoken until his feud with Eli started, so what made him think that he could just call her those horrible things?

"Clare," a familiar voice shattered her reverie, and Clare promptly whipped her head around to pin its owner with a vehement glare.

"What do _you_ want?" She snapped, "Did you come up with new ways to attack my virtue? Here, why don't I save you the trouble: 'slut', 'hussy', 'floozy', '_whore_' -"

"Look, I'm… I'm _sorry_, okay?" Fitz grit out, "I didn't mean… _any_ of it."

"But you _did_!" Clare shot back, her face growing hot as anger bubbled up inside of her once more. "Why else would you say it?"

"Because I was pissed off!" Fitz shouted, "I say stupid shit - _do_ stupid shit - when I'm mad, but it's not like I mean any of it!"

Clare turned her head away so that she was facing the road again. "Just go away."

She heard him sigh, but didn't pay any heed.

"I thought you'd be gone by now."

Tch. Was he honestly trying to make small talk with her? Clare narrowed her eyes.

"My cell phone died." She replied, "I'm waiting for the bus."

Why was she even giving him the time of day?

Fitz gave a snort. "Well, sorry to burst your bubble, babe, but you'll be waiting for a while." He paused briefly before adding, "Look, it's gonna rain. Why don't you just come back inside and -"

"_No_," came the adamant response. Clare couldn't help but feel like a child refusing to eat her vegetables. "I don't want to be anywhere _near_ you right now, so will you _please_ just leave me alone?"

"I can't - _do_ that." Fitz seemed to be struggling with himself; she could hear it in his voice. "Clare… you can't leave… please don't…"

Clare stood abruptly and spun around to face him, glaring daggers all the while.

"And why shouldn't I?" She snapped, crossing her arms. "You've made it perfectly clear that you hate me, and to be honest, I'm not particularly fond of you either!" She stomped up to him, stopping short of closing the distance between them and jabbing her index finger into his chest. "The only reason I even offered to be your tutor was because of your mom - because somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought, 'Oh, with a mom like her, he can't be all _that_ bad!' - but you know what? I was wrong! You _are_! I can't even close my eyes at night without seeing you, and that knife, and Eli and -" Clare broke off, covering her mouth to stifle the choked sob threatening to escape, and stepping away from Fitz - Fitz, who hadn't moved an inch since she began berating him.

She shook her head, running her fingers through her hair and laughing bitterly, disbelievingly. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this… it's not going to make a difference. You're hopeless."

The words left her lips before she could stop them, and it was then that Fitz finally reacted. To any random bystander, he would've looked the same, but standing as close as she was to him, Clare saw it - saw the hurt reflected in his eyes, if only for a brief second before it disappeared and was replaced with dull contempt.

She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the guilt festering in her chest.

Cowardice won over her conscience, and she made a move to leave - she would walk home, she decided. It would take longer, but she needed to get as far away from Fitz as humanly possible, as _soon_ as possible. However, just as she was about to leave, Fitz spoke up.

"I know."

Clare turned around, hesitantly meeting his gaze.

"W-what?" She stammered.

Fitz narrowed his eyes and she quickly averted her own. Seconds later, she found herself being gripped by the arm and dragged back into the apartment complex. When they reached the stairwell, Fitz pushed her up against the wall, eliciting a startled gasp from her. Clare's mind reeled; various scenarios played out in her head and she wanted nothing more than to scream, but all she could do was stare at her captor, wide-eyed and afraid.

"F-Fitz…" she managed to get out, her voice shaking. "W-what are you -" before she could finish, a large hand came down on the wall next to her face, causing her to shriek loudly.

"I _know_, okay?" Fitz said finally, not looking at her. "You're right. I _am_ hopeless, and you know what? You're not the first person who's told me that. I _know_ I'm a screw up who's going nowhere in life… not like you…" his voice grew softer, and Clare furrowed her brow, confused. "But… my mom… she still believes in me, you know? And… I've done a lot of thinking and… I don't want to keep being the screw up. I want her to be proud of me. But… I can't do it on my own."

At last, he lifted his gaze, holding her own. Gone was the aloof façade of _Fitz The Bully_. There was desperation in his eyes. He had let his walls down, Clare realized. She was seeing who she'd been given a glimpse of on Vegas Night; the awkward, vulnerable and perhaps even misunderstood _boy_ who had given her a corsage. This was _Mark_.

"Will you help me?"

The question caught her off guard. She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I want to change, Clare." Fitz said seriously. "I _do_. But like I said… I can't do it by myself. So… will you help? Please, Clare…"

Clare searched his face for any sign of deceit, but found nothing. He was telling the truth.

"O-okay." She said softly, nodding. "I'll… I'll help you."

X

**Okay, I know I said I'd update by the weekend, and I really meant to… but I forgot about Thanksgiving, hence the delay. However, I did manage to get this chapter done before an entire week had gone by, so… yeah. **

** On that note, I realize that it was a bitchy move to use the reviews as a means of me updating faster… and I'm sorry. I know how annoyed I get when other authors do it, and I shouldn't have. So I apologize. **

** Also, it has come to my attention that I should probably kick the plot into high gear, and don't worry, I plan to very soon. Either next chapter or the one after that.**

** Anyway, once again… thank you guys for the amazing reviews, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. **


	7. Making Plans

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Okay, so this is probably going to be my last update for a while. I have midterms coming up and I _really_ need to start studying for them, so… yeah. Just a head's up.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Making Plans**_

X

"This is _stupid_."

She had been in the middle of going over her notes when Fitz's outburst brought her back to reality. Glancing up, Clare couldn't help but shake her head in amusement as she watched the bully practically _pout_ across from her. In response, he shot her a dirty look, then sighed exasperatedly and slammed his textbook shut, pushing it to the center of the table and away from him.

"Can't we do something that isn't so… _boring_?" He whined, "I mean, it's great that _you_ can sit here for hours doing homework, but _I_ can't."

Clare arched a brow. "You've missed almost an entire month of school - and I'm not even including the times you skipped. It's my responsibility to make sure that you get caught up on everything, and right now your class is working on Trigonometry."

Fitz grunted, and promptly slouched in his seat, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Fucking hate Math…" He muttered.

Clare rolled her eyes. "We _could_ always go over the difference between Physics and Biology -"

"How long are you going to hold that over my head?" Fitz interjected disbelievingly. "Anyone could've made that mistake!" He sat up straight and leaned forward. "But I have an even better idea: let's _not_ talk about school - and say we did."

"_That_ would be counterproductive." Clare said dryly. "Come on, Fitz… look, you only have a few more pages to memorize, and then you'll be done for today. It's not that hard."

Fitz scoffed. "That's easy for _you_ to say, Edwards."

With that, he got up and made his way over to the fridge. After rummaging around for a bit, he returned with two glasses of water, and set one in front of Clare. She eyed hers with caution.

"_What_?" Fitz barked, noticing her hesitance. The entire atmosphere seemed to change instantly. "Afraid I did something to it? Maybe slipped a little _Ipecac_ in when you weren't looking?" He sneered. "Don't worry. Poisoning people isn't really my _style_. I prefer a more direct approach."

Clare glared at him.

"You mean like _stabbing_ people?" She hissed before she could stop herself. She winced as soon as the words left her mouth.

Fitz's eyes darkened.

"I _told_ you -" he started, but Clare cut him off.

"I-I know… I'm sorry. It just… slipped out." She looked away guiltily, focusing her attention on the hands fidgeting uncontrollably in her lap. "This is hard."

She hadn't meant to say it out loud, and from Fitz's silence, he knew that too - but it _was_ hard. She had been tutoring Fitz for a couple of weeks now, and not one session went by where they didn't accidentally offend each other in some shape or form. True, they hadn't had an altercation quite as bad as their first, but the tension was still there, hanging over them like a thick fog. Clare hated it.

"I should probably go now," she said after a while. "It's getting late."

Fitz nodded quietly, but didn't respond and continued to stare at the glass in front of him. Meanwhile, Clare rose to her feet and started gathering her belongings, sparing him the occasional awkward glance.

"I'll, umm… print out some Trig exercises when I get home. We can work on those next time." Swinging her book bag over her shoulder, she pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, wondering if she was forgetting something. When nothing came to her, she turned to go, only to come to an abrupt halt when Fitz called her name.

She turned to look at him expectantly.

"After tomorrow… I won't be under house arrest anymore." He said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Is there a chance we can take this," he motioned between them, "somewhere else?"

"Uh… sure." Clare said slowly. "I don't see why not. Who knows? M-Maybe a change of scenery will be… beneficial." She smiled weakly. "Well… umm… see you around, I guess."

With that, she spun around on her heel and made her leave.

oOo

As the lunch bell sounded, students quickly piled out of their classrooms and flocked to their respective cliques.

Amidst the crowded halls, Clare found herself at her locker, searching for the progress report she'd promised Mr. Simpson - but before she could find it, her vision suddenly darkened.

"Guess who?" A small smile tugged at Clare's lips.

"Oh, I don't know…" she giggled, raising her hands and placing them over the ones covering her eyes. "Sounds like my boyfriend… _feels_ like my boyfriend… but how do I know you're _really_ my boyfriend?"

She heard a chuckle and then felt herself being turned around. When their hands finally fell away, Clare was gazing up at Eli's face, completely lost in his eyes.

He smirked and leaned down, but instead of kissing her he simply pressed his forehead against hers.

"This PDA rule really sucks," he murmured, half-jokingly. "You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you right now."

Clare smiled playfully, reaching up and gripping the front of his red polo, pulling his body to hers. "Trust me, Romeo. The feeling is mutual."

Eli licked his lips.

"So… any chance you're free tonight?" He asked.

Clare's brow rose.

"That depends… are you asking me out?" She teased.

"I think you already know the answer to that." He countered, tilting his head ever-so-slightly and letting his lips graze hers.

Although it wasn't nearly as passionate as their previous ones, it still left her feeling like she was floating on cloud nine. She grinned lopsidedly and stared at him through lidded eyes.

"I _guess_ I could squeeze you into my busy schedule."

X

**Really short, I know, but like I mentioned before… I have midterms coming up and I need to start studying. They've thrown my entire schedule off. I had planned to have the plot kick in around next chapter, but I might have to postpone it to the following one. Sorry guys, but school is very important.**

** Anyway, I just hope this chapter wasn't too bad. I know it's not one of my best.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	8. Date

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: I lied. _This_ is going to be my last chapter until midterms are done.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Date**_

X

Clare gnawed anxiously on her bottom lip as she carefully analyzed herself in the mirror. Alli had come over earlier to help her get ready for her "big date" but Clare wanted to make sure she looked perfect. She wanted to knock Eli's socks off, but at the same time avoid the impression that she was "desperate" or worse, "easy" - so she'd resisted Alli's attempts to cake on her makeup, but had let her choose her outfit instead. Something cute and maybe a little sexy, but not _too_ showy or - heaven forbid - skimpy. She didn't want to give Eli the wrong idea, after all.

Jean skirt, check. Admittedly, it was a little on the short side, but nothing that a pair of leggings couldn't fix - that was, until Alli decided to _hide_ them, completely ignoring Clare's protests by insisting, "Clare, you've got nice legs! Flaunt 'em, girl! Make that boy of yours drool!"

Eventually, Clare had simply relented. Mostly because it was impossible to reason with Alli Bhandari when she had her mind set. Besides, she was happy with the long-sleeved blouse she'd found for her to wear. It was had a floral print (her favourite) and it hugged her curves nicely. She even had a matching headband to go with it. So overall, Clare was genuinely impressed with what she saw in her reflection.

She would definitely thank Alli later.

Just then, her cell phone went off - Eli.

_'Showtime.'_

Clare smiled, fixing her hair one last time before grabbing her purse and a pair of white flats, and rushing down the stairs.

"Mom, I'm going out for a while! I'll be back before curfew!" She called out behind her, yanking open the front door.

Her mother didn't respond, but that wasn't anything new to Clare. Ever since her parents started fighting, it was as if she didn't even exist - like she was just furniture.

_'If Darcy was home… things would be different.'_

Clare shook her head. Tonight was about her and Eli. With that in mind, she closed the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk, just as a familiar hearse pulled up.

She wasted no time climbing into the passenger seat and putting on her seatbelt, but not before leaning over to give her boyfriend a quick peck on the lips.

"Hey," she greeted as she drew back.

"Hey to you too." Eli replied, his smirk soon replaced by wide eyes as he took in the sight in front of him. "_Wow_. You look… beautiful."

Clare smiled shyly, and silently thanked Alli a million times over.

"Why, thank you. You don't look too shabby yourself, Mr. Goldsworthy." She teased, giving his tie a playful tug. "Now… where to?"

"The Dot." Came the casual response.

"Again?" Clare tried to hide her disappointment. It wasn't that she didn't like the Dot… but she'd eaten there so many times, especially recently, that she could have her own discount.

Eli laughed, bringing her attention back to him.

"Nah, of course not." He said. "This is our first _official_ date. It's gonna be special."

oOo

"Now?"

"Almost."

"… now?"

"Just about finished - hey! No peeking!"

"But _E_-li! I'm getting cold!"

"I'll just be a few more seconds and… _done_. Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Clare did.

She gasped loudly, her hands flying to her mouth as she gazed at the sight before her.

"A _picnic_?" She squealed, barely able to contain her excitement.

"Yep." Eli replied, looking as smug as could be as he watched her reaction.

He climbed into the back of Morty, careful to avoid knocking over the food he'd neatly set up. Once he'd made himself comfortable, he beckoned Clare to follow. She crawled inside and found an empty space beside the dark-haired teen.

"This is incredible, Eli. How did you…?"

Eli chuckled. "I have my ways."

Clare eyed him sceptically.

"Nothing illegal, I hope." She said.

This prompted Eli to clutch his heart, feigning hurt.

"Clare, Clare, Clare… have you no faith in me?"

Clare let out a snort.

"Anyway…" Eli went on, "What say we dig in? You _have_ to try this casserole." He popped open a large tupperware bowl, causing a delicious aroma to waft through the air.

Clare licked her lips, waiting eagerly. She hadn't eaten in hours and she was _starving_. As if reading her mind, Eli brought a forkful to her mouth, nudging gently until she opened up. As soon as the casserole touched her tongue, the redhead's taste buds went into a frenzy and a delighted moan escaped the back of her throat. Eli seemed to stiffen momentarily, then relaxed and drew back slowly.

"I _told_ you you'd like it." He remarked, before taking a bite of his own.

"That is _so_ good." She agreed. "What's in it?"

"Ah, _that_ -" Eli started, holding up his forefinger and shaking it, "- is a secret. Old family recipe, that kind of thing."

"So _you_ made it?" Clare asked.

"I helped." He clarified. "My grandma did most of the work. Cooking's her _thing_, and has been for a good… century or so."

"Eli!" Clare reprimanded, slapping his arm. "That's _mean_!"

"Hey, if you knew her, you'd say the same thing." Eli said matter-of-factly.

"Still, she's your _grandmother_!"

"And I love her. I'm just saying… she's been around for a long time. Now, can we please move on?"

Clare huffed, but nodded in agreement.

"Fine," she said, "but don't think I'm going to forget this. What happened to 'respect for our elders'?"

"What happened to… we're changing the topic?" Eli retorted sarcastically.

Clare crossed her arms.

"Okay, okay." She relented. She spared a glance at the spread before them. "So… what else is there?"

"Oh, you know… fruits, veggies, chips, dip, soda, and of course… _dessert_." A devious grin played across his lips. "Now… let's eat, drink and be merry!"

oOo

It didn't take them long to finish off the casserole. Clare couldn't help but feel disappointed; it'd been a while since she'd had something so incredibly tasty. She kept those thoughts to herself, however, as she watched Eli set aside the now empty plastic container, only to grab something new in its place. Sitting back upright, he flashed her a smirk and held up a can of _Cool Whip_.

"Whipped cream?" Clare questioned.

"For the _strawberries_." Eli replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "There's chocolate sauce too."

She smiled. "I'm beginning to think this is all some kind of ploy to fatten me up."

"Why? So I can _eat_ you?" He taunted back. Then he stilled, his eyes darkening significantly with what she could only assume to be _lust_, plain and simple.

But why -

And then it clicked.

Clare quickly averted her gaze, blushing furiously.

After a few minutes, Eli cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, uh… I've been wanting to do something like this for a while." He confessed in an attempt to get a conversation going. He paused for a second, and then as if he suddenly remembered something, added, "Actually, I called you yesterday - your mom said you were out?"

Clare swallowed.

"O-oh. That. Y-yeah. I've, umm… I've been doing some tutoring." She said, careful to avoid eye contact.

"Yeah?" He replied, sounding genuinely interested.

She nodded.

Eli let out a laugh. "Sweet. So who's the lucky someone who's been stealing all of my valuable Clare time?"

Clare froze, her muscles suddenly going rigid. She could feel her heart pounding rapidly against her chest and bit her lip. Should she tell him about Fitz? Now was the perfect opportunity to drop the bomb, so to speak - to get it all out. At least then she wouldn't feel so guilty about keeping something from him, especially something that he had every right to know, given the circumstances. But at the same time… he would be angry. Their date had been so wonderful so far - she didn't want it to end on a bad note, with Eli refusing to talk to her or thinking that she'd betrayed him.

No, she decided. She wouldn't tell him. At least not yet.

Taking a deep breath, Clare met her boyfriend's curious stare.

"Sorry, that's confidential." She lied, smiling coyly to throw off any suspicion.

Eli was none the wiser. He gave a shrug, but didn't press or ask her to elaborate. "That's cool."

Relief washed over Clare.

She _would_ tell Eli.

Eventually.

Just…

_'… not now.'_

"Hey," she said, scooting closer and wrapping her arms around him. She laid her head on his shoulder and gazed up at him through lidded eyes. "Remember… in the hallway today?"

Eli quirked a brow, smirking. "What about it?"

Clare grinned and hugged him closer.

"Want to pick up where we left off?"

If possible, Eli's smirk grew. Instead of answering her, however, he simply cupped her face and brought his lips to hers.

oOo

Some odd hours later, and well past her curfew, Clare waltzed into her home grinning from ear-to-ear. She felt unusually giddy - although admittedly, that might've been the sugar. In any case, she was _happy_, and absolutely _nothing_ could take that away from her.

Unless it was her mother, passed out on the couch with an empty bottle of wine in hand. Clare's smile fell instantly.

She frowned, and against her better judgment, walked over to the older woman. For a few minutes, she just _stared_ at her mother in disappointment, and perhaps even a bit of contempt.

_This_ was supposed to be her role model?

Clare scowled. She snatched the wine bottle out of her mother's loose grip and slammed it down on the coffee table angrily.

Helen Edwards didn't even flinch.

"You're pathetic." Clare muttered.

With that, she whipped around and stormed up to her room.

X

**Who else had a mom who drank a lot?**

** Clare was kind of a bitch near the end of this, but it isn't without reason.**

** Ugh, I feel like something's wrong with my writing lately, and I don't know what. But I'm very unsatisfied with these last two chapters for some reason. It isn't exactly Writer's Block since I know where I'm going with this fic, but… I don't know. Maybe it's all the stuff I have to do for school? Yeah, I'm going with that. When in doubt, blame school.**

** Anyway, **_**hopefully**_** you guys enjoyed. Next chapter, more Fitzy. I promise. And Holly J! **

** Anyway, please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	9. Sealed Lips

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. Or _Lord of the Flies_, or _Coral Island_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Alright! My midterms are finally over, so now I can get back to writing. Yay!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Sealed Lips**_

X

The November air was crisp and cool.

That was the first thing that Fitz noticed when he stepped outside for the first time in weeks, now finally free of the ankle monitor that had kept him confined to his apartment, bored out of his skull. It just sucked that there was nothing worthwhile to look at, aside from the buildings across the road and the drug deals taking place in secluded alleys. Old, beat up cars lined the streets and police sirens sounded in the distance, but that was nothing new.

Fitz shivered as a gust of wind picked up. He rubbed his hands together, then slid them into his pockets to retrieve his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply and savouring the taste. It had been way too long since his last.

"Smoking will kill you."

He rolled his eyes, peering over his shoulder just as Clare appeared beside him, adjusting the strap of her bulging book bag. She made a face, scrunching up her nose in disgust and leaning away from him.

"Doesn't it bother you? You could get lung cancer." She said matter-of-factly.

Fitz couldn't help but snort. "You should be thrilled, then."

Clare frowned, clearly not amused by his accusation. For a brief moment, he thought about apologizing, but decided against it and took another drag instead.

"How did you even get them? It's not like you're of age or anything, so how -"

"I know some people."

He wasn't lying. Half the guys at the ravine - guys he used to hang out with, like Johnny and Bruce - were legal. When they couldn't hook him up, there was always Bianca who had no problem swiping some from her mom or her cousins. He'd also had a fake I.D for about a day, but that turned out to be a setup arranged by the same punk who had been pissing him off all year. Fitz scowled.

"Does your mom know?" Clare asked softly.

He sighed in exasperation, growing more and more irritated by the second.

"What's with the twenty questions, Edwards?" He barked, tossing the butt to the ground before rounding on her. Instinctively, Clare backed away, notably startled by his sudden outburst, and Fitz couldn't help but smirk. He closed the space between them, pinning her against the railing behind her. "Trying to figure me out, huh? Is that it? Am I a _mystery_ that you want to solve, Clare? 'Why is Fitz the way he is' - that's what you want to know, right? _Answer me_!"

"N-no… that's not why I… I-I just…" Clare stammered weakly, before trailing off and squeezing her eyes shut.

It wasn't until a whimper escaped her lips that Fitz drew back instantly. A wave of nausea washed over him and he held a hand over his mouth, turning away from the trembling girl while he recomposed himself. He couldn't explain what had come over him; why he had wanted to see her cowering beneath him, terrified. It was sick. _He_ was sick.

"Sorry," he rasped out, after a while. "And no. She doesn't know. So don't go telling or anything, alright?"

"Y-yeah." Clare replied shakily.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Fitz cautiously turned back to face her, but kept his gaze lowered.

"So, uh… where to now?" He asked in a feeble attempt to change the subject - to somehow make her forget what had just happened.

She wouldn't, though, and they both knew it.

"Umm… I was thinking the Steakhouse." She said, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I figure we can get a bite to eat and go over Trig. Kill two birds with one stone, you know?" She joked, giving him a nervous smile. "You did your assignments, right?"

Fitz guffawed.

"Yes, _mom_."

The tension in the air seemed to evaporate, and Clare smacked him playfully on the arm.

"You could be a little more enthusiastic, you know."

"About _school_? Yeah, okay."

She shook her head amusedly. "Let's just go."

oOo

As per usual, Little Miss Steaks was packed - but fortunately, not with anyone she recognized. That was part of the reason Clare had chosen this particular location over the Dot. It was, first and foremost, a family-oriented restaurant, not a popular "hang out" for the students of Degrassi, and so chances of accidentally running into anyone they knew were slim.

Just to be safe, however, she picked a booth in a secluded corner. As Fitz slid into the seat across from her and took in their surroundings, Clare opened her bag and pulled out a few textbooks before placing them on the table. She heard him groan and fought back a smile, and was about to tease him when an all-too familiar voice stopped her.

"Well, here's an unexpected sight."

Clare's heart stopped.

Her eyes widened and she could practically imagine the color draining from her face like she'd just seen a ghost. She felt like she was going to throw up, but somehow managed to maintain her composure as she slowly turned to find Holly J. Sinclair standing next to their table, looking no less intimidating than usual, even in pigtails.

The older girl narrowed her eyes before shaking her head, like she didn't even _want_ to know what was going on, and taking out a pad of paper.

"Welcome to Little Miss Steaks. I'll be your server for this evening. My name is Holly J but of course… you already know that." She glanced up. "Can I start you off with anything? Drinks, appetizers, salad… some condoms, maybe?" She lowered her voice for the last one, and Clare buried her face in her hands to hide her embarrassment.

"It's not… I mean… we're not -" she stumbled over her words and then shot Fitz a look that practically screamed _help me_.

But Fitz just grinned lopsidedly, completely unperturbed by Holly J's implication, and glanced up at the redhead.

"Yeah, I'd like some onion rings and a coke." He told her, sliding out of the booth and standing up. "Be back in a few."

He gave their student council V.P a once over, eyeing her up and down, before walking away. Clare watched him leave, glaring at his retreating form all the while and fisting the material of her skirt.

Damn him! How could he just _leave her_ at a time like this?

"Well, well… you're just full of surprises this year, aren't you?"

Clare drew her attention back to Holly J, who was staring at her with an amused expression on her face.

"I mean, I knew you had a thing for bad boys, but this is a bit much, don't you think?" She went on, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. "What's next? Tattoos and tongue piercings?"

Clare frowned. "It's not like that."

Holly J rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you say, Baby Edwards." She said dismissively.

"It's _not_!" Clare snapped, wiping the smirk off Holly J's face immediately. "I'm just tutoring him, that's all! Nothing else is going on - I _swear_." She bit her lip nervously, anxiety building and suffocating her from the inside out. "And… I would appreciate it… if you didn't tell anyone. _Please_."

Holly J stared hard at her for a moment, before nodding numbly.

"Sure. Fine. Your secret's safe with me." She assured her. "So, uh… what do you want to eat?"

Clare smiled gratefully at her and then picked up a menu.

"What's the special?"

.

.

.

"So, where have you been for the last ten minutes?" Clare inquired when Fitz finally returned, peering over her glass of water to pin him with a suspicious look.

"I needed some fresh air." He answered curtly, shrugging.

"I hardly think that smoking qualifies." She shot back.

Fitz glared at her.

"You know, you should try out for one of those PSA commercials." He told her. "You're already like a walking anti-smoking ad."

"Ha ha," Clare deadpanned. "Well, now that you're back, we can finally get started." She unzipped her bag and dug around, pulling out a small stack of paper and handing it to him. "That's all the work you've done till now, marked by all of your teachers." A smile slid into place. "I'm impressed. You've improved a lot. I think you're finally getting the hang of it!"

She watched Fitz's eyes skim over the pages briefly before pushing it aside.

"Cool." He said nonchalantly.

Clare gave a defeated sigh.

Was it too much to ask for him to show that he at least _cared_? Even a little?

Apparently so.

"Have you started reading _Lord of the Flies_, yet?" She asked. "You need to write an essay on its symbolism, so I would try to finish it before next week."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it." Fitz muttered.

Clare tilted her head. "You never know. You might like it. There's lots of blood and violence."

Fitz opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Holly J reappeared at their table.

"Did you tell him about the part where they sodomize a pig?" She said, placing a basket of onion rings in front of Fitz - Fitz, who now looked visibly mortified. The older girl smirked, deeming her job done, and then turned to Clare. "Your food will be out in five minutes."

With that, she was gone.

"_What_."

Clare laughed. "It's definitely… something."

Fitz's face contorted in disgust.

"Do I _have_ to read it?"

"It's a requirement." Clare reminded him.

"Fuck…" he groaned, "What the hell? _Why_?"

Clare shrugged. "Because it's symbolic. I also heard that Golding wrote it in response to books like _Coral Island_. He wanted to give the opposite view; that things wouldn't be all fine and dandy if a bunch of kids were stranded on an island with no adults - in fact, it would be chaotic. But it doesn't just apply to kids. He's talking about _humans_ in general, and that if there were no rules or laws to govern society, then we would all revert to savagery."

Fitz blinked, trying to process everything she'd just said, before raising a quizzical brow.

"… you got all of that from reading the book?"

"Well, I did some research first." She admitted. "Also, it helps to pay attention in class. Or _go_ to class, for that matter."

The bully rolled his eyes.

"Just read it, okay?" Clare pressed.

"_Fine_. But you owe me."

"I don't owe you anything."

oOo

His mom was already home by the time he got back. She was sitting at the kitchen table, mulling over bills, when he walked through the door. As soon as she saw him, her eyes lit up almost immediately.

"Finally!" She said excitedly, standing up and making her way over to him. "I have some good news, Mark."

X

**… and that's all for chapter 9.**

** First of all, let me just say that I wrote that scene with Holly J and Clare **_**long**_** before the second half of season 10 started. So for the sake of the fic, the Steakhouse is not a popular place to meet up in the Degrassiverse. It just so happens that HJ works there. But **_**aside**_** from that… The Dot is the "cool" place to be. I love how there are only two restaurants in the Degrassiverse though, don't you?**

** I feel like I'm forgetting to say something, but whatever.**

** Hopefully, you guys enjoyed.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think. Seriously. Review.**


	10. Chances

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. Or _Axe_ body spray. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: I think the last episode made me just… die. Like… I was so ridiculously happy that "Umbrella" ended on a good note with EClare. Munro and Aislinn have amazing chemistry. I was actually blown away by their performance in the episode. Adam and Fiona were cute too - I love the "Princess Fiona"/"Prince Adam" exchange, not gonna lie. Also, it was sort of a make or break it episode for me with Drew's character. I _want_ to like him, but every time I start to he does something that makes me NOT like him… and I was honestly expecting to hate him after this episode. I really did think he was gonna let Adam's secret slip. But he didn't, and I was surprised, but also relieved, because even though he's a terrible boyfriend and kind of an ass, he's still a good brother.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Onto the next chapter!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Chances**_

X

"IT'S A GIRL!"

Jenna Middleton's high-pitched squeal quickly shattered Clare's concentration, echoing throughout the room and ringing in her ears. She and Alli glanced up in unison, just as the blonde - hopelessly oblivious to the dirty looks she was receiving from other students trying to study - hobbled over to the duo and promptly threw down a picture of an ultrasound.

Clare arched an eyebrow, taking in the sight of Jenna's flushed cheeks and matted hair, pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. She was panting heavily, like she'd just finished running a marathon, but Clare knew better. It had been a few weeks since news of Jenna's pregnancy came out, and on national television to boot; after that, she simply stopped trying to hide it. Clare's gaze fell on the other girl's protruding belly, and then flickered over to the photo on the table.

Without thinking, she picked it up and examined the image closely, all the while drowning out Alli and Jenna as they began to chat excitedly. Her teeth caught her bottom lip and her brow furrowed. Her mind still hadn't wrapped around the fact that Jenna was going to be a mother. It seemed so surreal, that there was an actual _life_ growing inside of her former friend - a tiny person who was part of Jenna, and part of KC.

"… I mean, I know I said I wanted it to be a surprise - but I figure this way, a baby shower will be easier, you know?"

Unconsciously, Clare touched her own stomach. She wondered, as she sometimes did, what would've happened if she and KC never split up - if Jenna had never come to Degrassi and lured him away. Would they still be together? Would she have eventually succumbed to peer pressure and given herself to KC? Would _she_ have wound up pregnant at fifteen?

She ran her thumb over her purity ring, twisting it around her finger as her thoughts slowly shifted to Eli. Eli, who could set her skin aflame with just a touch - who could get her riled up and make her want to throw caution into the wind just by kissing her. What would happen if she gave herself to him? Would Eli abandon her, like KC did Jenna?

"…lare? Hey, Clare? Earth to _Clare_. CLARE!"

A sudden jab to the ribs jarred Clare from her stupor. She glared at Alli, who gave her a smug look before launching back into her conversation with Jenna - only this time, she dragged Clare along with her.

"So, have you named her?"

Jenna shook her head. "Not yet. KC gave me a book of all these names and what they mean, but… I haven't found any I like so far." She lowered her gaze momentarily, until she glanced at Clare and smiled wide. "Hey, Clare Bear… if you ever had a daughter, what would you call her?"

Clare narrowed her eyes. Maybe she was being paranoid, or maybe it was because she was still bitter, but Jenna's sugary-sweet tone didn't quite settle with her.

She shrugged.

"I haven't thought about it." She answered evenly.

"Really?" Jenna's smile fell, and she looked noticeably disappointed. "You've never thought about what you'd name your future children?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I get there." Clare replied, and then without much thought, added spitefully, "Why do you want to know, anyway? So you can steal that too?"

The words were out before she could stop them, but unlike her slip-ups with Fitz, _this_ she didn't feel sorry about. Not really, not entirely, not yet. Oh, she'd probably regret it _later_ - in fact, she was _sure_ she would - but at that moment, she couldn't care less. It was nothing short of juvenile, she knew, but as she waited for Jenna to respond, she couldn't help but feel a bit triumphant when the blonde merely gaped at her, having been rendered temporarily speechless.

Growing impatient, Clare stood up and gathered her belongings.

"I'll see you later," she told Alli, before darting out of study hall and leaving her best friend to deal with the aftermath, knowing that Alli could handle it.

She reached her locker just as the lunch bell sounded, and the hallways became flooded with students. Grabbing her bagged lunch, Clare was about to head to the cafeteria when she caught the eye of Holly J Sinclair. She came to an abrupt halt, heart hammering and palms sweating as the redhead walked by with Sav, tossing her a _look_ - one that clearly said, "You owe me."

It seemed as though Holly J had, indeed, kept her promise, and as far as Clare knew, hadn't told a soul about the previous night. She was beyond grateful, but it dawned on her that she was now in debt to _Holly J Sinclair_. Clare shuddered. She could only imagine what the senior had in store for her.

When Holly J disappeared around the corner, Clare finally relaxed and took off in the opposite direction.

The cafeteria was crowded by the time she arrived, but she spotted an empty table by the window and made her way over. Once seated, she poured the contents of her paper bag out and tried to decide where to start.

_'Apple… banana… bologna sandwich… or chocolate pudding…'_

Just as she was about to reach for the apple, a familiar hand covered her own and the smell of Axe tickled her nose. Clare smiled, tilting her head back to peer up at her boyfriend. "Hey you."

"Hey yourself," he replied, smirking as he slid in next to her. "How was class?"

"Our teacher called in sick and the sub let us do anything as long as it was productive. So Alli and I studied for our quiz next week." She answered.

She decided to leave out the part about Jenna.

Eli rolled his eyes.

"Perfect opportunity to skip and you choose to _study_? Have I taught you nothing, my little minx?"

"_That_," Clare said sternly, "was a one-time thing. But… I _do_ have a spare after English."

Eli's lips curled mischievously. "Are you suggesting that _I_ cut class for _your_ benefit?"

Clare met his gaze and smirked.

"It's just a suggestion." She said, licking her lips eagerly.

Eli opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, a booming voice thundered over the intercom.

_**"Clare Edwards, please report to the principal's office. I repeat: Clare Edwards, report to the principal's office. Thank you."**_

The cafeteria went silent, and all eyes fell on her. After all, it wasn't every day that "Saint Clare" was called to the office. Clare understood that, but it didn't make her feel any less uncomfortable. She squirmed nervously beside Eli and clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. Then, swallowing hard, she rose to her feet.

"I, um… I… I should probably…" she trailed off, avoiding Eli's gaze as she hurriedly re-packed her lunch. "I'll… talk to you later?"

She didn't wait for him to answer. She just left, passing a confused Adam and Drew on her way out and not even sparing them a glance.

oOo

As soon as Clare stepped into Mr. Simpson's office, she knew why she'd been called down. Almost immediately, her eyes landed on Mrs. Fitzgerald, but there were a few other faces she recognized as well - Ms. Sauvé, Ms. Dawes, Mr. Perino, Coach Armstrong, Ms. Oh and, last but not least, Audra Torres. Drew and Adam's mom. It was then that Clare remembered that Mrs. Torres was the head of the PTA committee, and she suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Clare closed the door behind her with a soft _click_ and took a seat next to Mrs. Fitzgerald, who smiled warmly at her.

At last, Mr. Simpson spoke.

"Clare," the sophomore glanced up from her lap, "I assume you already know why you're here?"

She nodded slowly, but didn't say a word, instead waiting for the verdict with bated breath. Her whole body was tense, but when Mrs. Fitzgerald placed a comforting hand on her arm, she relaxed a little.

"As you're well aware, the school board has been on the fence about this case for some time, but now they've finally reached a decision. After careful consideration…" Behind her, Clare heard Mrs. Torres make a sound of disbelief, but Mr. Simpson didn't even bat an eye. "They have decided to allow Mark Fitzgerald to come back to Degrassi."

oOo

He was going back.

Even though it had been a day since he'd found out, the shock still hadn't worn off yet, and as Fitz sat on the edge of his bed, all he could do was stare at the letter in his hands. He must have read it a dozen times, just to make sure it was _real_ and that he wasn't dreaming.

Truth be told, he really hadn't expected the school board to vote in his favour. He was a delinquent with a record - that _alone_ should have kept him out. But no, they had agreed to let him return to Degrassi. His mother had practically burst into tears when she'd told him the news the night before. She had even decided to make a huge dinner for him in celebration - he could smell it wafting through the apartment, leaving his mouth watering.

With a grunt, Fitz folded the letter and placed it on his desk. He stood up and stretched, cracking his knuckles and peering around his messy room, wondering if he should clean it.

_'Nah,'_ he decided, then opened his drawer and pulled out the small stack of paper that Clare had given him at the Steakhouse.

Out of boredom, and maybe a little curiosity - he would never admit the latter, though - he began to skim through them, noticing that as he neared the bottom, his grades improved significantly. So did the comments, for that matter, left behind from both his teachers and Clare - Clare and her ridiculously neat handwriting. She was such a _girl_. She even dotted her 'i's with hearts. He would've gagged aloud if, on some level, he didn't find it _cute_.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he still felt oddly… _elated_ (damn it, even her vocabulary was sneaking into his!) as he compared his earlier assignments to his later ones. Proud of himself, even, which was weird because he usually didn't give a rat's ass about school.

So lost in his own head, Fitz could only vaguely hear a knock at the front door, followed by murmuring in the hall. It wasn't until he heard a throat being cleared that he finally glanced up, and was surprised to find Clare leaning against the doorframe. He jumped to his feet, tossing the stack of assignments somewhere behind him and hoping that she hadn't caught him, because really, he didn't want her to think that he actually _cared_… he had a reputation to protect.

He suddenly wished he _had_ cleaned up a bit, but before he could dwell on those thoughts, a huge grin stretched across her face.

"You did it!"

Then she threw her arms around him.

.

.

.

He stiffened, his body paralyzed with shock. His mind had gone blank the instant she made contact, leaving Fitz unsure of what to do. He didn't know whether to hug her back or to shove her away, but before he could come to a decision, Clare let out a gasp and leapt out of reach.

"S-Sorry!" She squeaked, flustered. "I don't know why I… I guess I was just so happy for you… I didn't even think about -"

"It's, uh, it's fine." Fitz managed to croak, cutting her off.

Clare stopped rambling and glanced down at her feet. Fitz furrowed his brow, but said nothing of it.

For a few minutes, they stood in silence. Until, that is, his mother poked her head into his room.

"Clare, honey, I was wondering if you'd like to stay for dinner?" She asked.

Fitz's jaw went slack, and he stared at his mother like she'd just grown an extra head. Meanwhile, Clare's eyes kept darting back and forth between the two.

"Oh! Umm… well… I… I guess I could… I mean, if it's not too much trouble…"

Abby beamed. "Great, I'll make an extra plate! I hope you like chicken parmesan!" She was about to head back to the kitchen when she paused, snapping her fingers, and turned back around. "I almost forgot… Mark, we're out of milk. Could you go to the store and get some?"

"Uh… sure." Fitz muttered, knowing it wouldn't be wise to say no. He brushed past Clare on his way out, making sure to avoid eye contact with her. As soon as his mother handed him the money, he was gone.

oOo

Not long after Fitz had left, Clare found herself sitting at the kitchen table, watching his mother labour over the stove. She was humming to herself; a tune that Clare didn't recognize, but it left her feeling at ease with herself. _Calm_. Happy, even.

"Thanks for letting me stay for dinner, Mrs. Fitzgerald." She said after a while.

The older woman glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

"Oh, Clare, it was the least I could do after everything you've done for my son." She replied. "And please, call me Abby. 'Mrs. Fitzgerald' makes me feel old."

"Sure," said Clare, smiling back. "So, umm… will _Mister_ Fitzgerald be joining us?"

She didn't know why she had asked. Curiosity, perhaps. But when Abby suddenly went very still, Clare instantly regretted it. She was about to apologize when the blonde spoke.

"No," she sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. "No, he probably won't. He's usually at the bar around this time."

Clare swallowed; she could hear the venom laced in Abby's voice.

"Oh," she said softly, looking down at her lap. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have asked -"

"Don't be. It's fine, really." Abby assured her. She set the timer before padding over to the table and pulling up a seat across from Clare. "You probably have a lot of questions, and I know Mark isn't exactly the most… _open_ person."

Clare pursed her lips together and shook her head. "Not exactly. But, I'm used to being around people like that."

Eli came to mind, and so did KC. Even Adam, although the latter was definitely getting better.

"You know," Abby's voice drew Clare's attention back to her, and she listened attentively. "Mark wasn't always like this… a troublemaker. There was a time when he was a very sweet boy. I don't know when that changed, to be honest. It seems like one day he just… wasn't the little boy that _I_ knew. I thought it was some kind of phase… you know how boys are." She gave Clare a weak smile. "He was just so angry, all the time, and then he closed himself off to me. I didn't know what to do. I _still_ don't."

Clare's throat tightened when she noticed Abby's eyes glisten with unshed tears, but the older woman hurriedly blinked them away.

"As a mother, it's painful to watch your child fall through the cracks and not be able to do anything. I work three jobs, trying to keep a roof over our heads, so I'm hardly ever home. I thought that marrying Phil would make things better, but it hasn't." She stared down at her trembling hands. "The first two years of high school were like hell. It seemed like every other week I was getting a call from the school, or from the police, or _something_. Then one day… they just stopped."

"He told me he liked someone - a freshman girl, but he didn't know how to approach her, and by the time he worked up the courage she was already taken."

Clare blinked.

_What_?

No.

There was no way.

It wasn't possible.

"Did… did he tell you who it was?" Clare asked, staring wide-eyed at Abby.

Abby's wistful expression seemed to vanish, replaced with a smirk.

"Of course he didn't." She said, "All I know is that he asked her to the dance the night he got arrested. I knew it had to be the same girl too, because he came home from school grinning like he'd just won the lottery." She let out a laugh. "I even made him bring a corsage!"

It was then that Clare's heart stopped.

X

**DUN. DUN. DUN.**

** So… I think this might be the longest chapter yet. **

** Like it? **

** Hate it?**

** A lot happened, and there's even more drama to come after this. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed. Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	11. Blame Game I

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: My apologies for the delay! School has been keeping me very busy, and will probably continue to do so for the next few weeks, but I'm going to try my best to update as quickly as possible.

Thank you for being so patient!

On a side note… OH MY GOD. THE PROMO! FITZ! AHH! I was so excited when I saw that! But UGH… I do _not_ want to wait until February. Le sigh.

Anyway, here's the next chapter. Hopefully, you guys will enjoy!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Blame Game I**_

X

When Monday reared its head, Fitz found himself - and it came as no surprise - in Simpson's office, slouched in a chair and only half-tuning into what Simpson was saying.

Class hadn't started yet. He had taken the city bus and arrived long before anyone else, with the exception of the faculty and maybe student council. His mom had insisted that he at least _try_ to make a good impression on his first day back, and what better way than to actually be _on time_ for once? Reluctantly, he had complied and forced himself to get up at the crack of dawn in order to catch his ride, but he hoped that she didn't expect him to make a habit out of it. Now that he was back at Degrassi, he had a reputation to maintain, and being "punctual" wouldn't exactly help.

On the other hand, neither would the lame-ass uniform he was now being forced to wear. The red polo and khaki pants had been sent to him in the mail, already paid for by - he _guessed_ - the school board, since there was no way in hell that his mom could've afforded it. Not with all the bills she was trying to pay off. He vaguely recalled Clare mentioning the new dress code during one of their tutoring sessions a while back, but it'd somehow slipped his mind.

"… understood?"

Fitz glanced up. Simpson stared at him expectantly.

"Yeah, whatever." He muttered, shrugging carelessly.

Simpson pinned his brows together, clearly not amused.

"You should be thankful, you know." He said sternly. "To both your mother _and_ Clare. It's because of their persistence and dedication that you've been allowed to continue your education here." He clasped his hands together and straightened his posture, his expression serious. There was no trace of the laidback, former Media Immersions teacher. "Also, don't think that just because you're back that you can slack off again. I expect you to keep your grades up, Mark -"

"Fitz," the teen corrected.

"- _Fitz_," Simpson amended with a nod. "To make sure that your grades don't slip, Clare will remain as your tutor for the remainder of the year. You'll also be seeing Ms. Sauvé once a week."

"What for?" Fitz snapped.

"Degrassi won't tolerate anymore violence. If you have a problem, then talk to Ms. Sauvé, but _do not_ handle it with your fists and expect to get away with it." Simpson said.

Fitz promptly scoffed, and Simpson regarded him coldly.

"I mean it, Fitz. One more incident - even the slightest altercation - and you're gone. Clear?"

"Crystal." Fitz muttered, just as the bell rang. "Can I go now?"

Simpson nodded, dismissing him with a wave. Without another word, Fitz stood up and grabbed his backpack, swung it lazily over his shoulder and made his way out of the office and into the busy halls.

"Isn't that…?"

"What's _he_ doing here?"

"I heard he brought a knife to Vegas Night. That's why…"

"I thought he was in jail!"

"Wasn't he expelled?"

"Doesn't look that way…"

"He _should've_ been. It's _his_ fault we -"

"Shut up, he'll hear you!"

Almost instantly, frantic whispers broke out around him. People stopped and stared - some in shock, some in disbelief, and some in fear. One kid, a scrawny sophomore with glasses (a total geek who Fitz would have no problem stuffing into a locker) had nearly pissed his pants when he'd crossed paths with the bully. Normally, Fitz would've laughed, but stopped when he noticed the _other_ reactions he was getting.

Glares, disgusted looks, accusing stares, and eyes filled with pure, unbridled hatred.

And he was at the receiving end of every one of them.

oOo

_'Ugh!'_

On the other side of the school, Clare Edwards groaned loudly and stared at her reflection in the mirror, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wake herself up. Makeup had done little to hide the bags underneath them, and with her bed-head, she practically looked dead on her feet. If that wasn't enough, even though she could barely keep her eyes open, her mind was in chaos; a cacophony of jumbled thoughts and unanswered questions that had kept her up for the better part of three nights.

Was it possible?

Had Fitz really liked her for that long?

_'No.'_ Clare shook her head. It had to be a coincidence. There was just no way - she didn't even know Fitz _existed_ until his feud with Eli. Had they crossed paths before?

Clare racked her brain, trying to remember if she had seen Fitz at all during her freshman year, but drew a blank. So much had happened - the Shep, being caught with a vibrator in class, Robot Wars, her first boyfriend, Alli's STD scare, Jenna stealing KC away, and the entire incident with Declan Coyne that she would much rather pretend never happened - that most other things seemed trivial.

However, before she could contemplate any further, the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end. Clare could feel someone behind her, and turning on her heel, was mildly surprised to find Adam standing there looking none-too-pleased. In fact, he looked downright _furious_.

She frowned.

"Adam?" She greeted cautiously. "Is… something wrong?"

"You could say that." He bit out. After running a hand through his hair, he went on. "I just saw Fitz."

Clare blinked, her lips parting in shock - not because she hadn't known, but because she hadn't expected Fitz to return so soon. She hadn't prepared herself for what she was going to say or do, or how she was going to act or _anything_, and after what Abby had told her… it only made things that much more difficult.

"O-oh."

"You don't seem all that _surprised_."

Adam's tone was bitter and laced with suspicion, leaving Clare feeling very unsettled. She swallowed hard, trying to calm her nerves.

"H-He's back? Really?" She stammered, laughing nervously.

It was too late, though.

Adam's face twisted into a dark scowl. "Don't play stupid with me, Clare! You _knew_ he was coming back, didn't you?" It was a good thing that the halls were nearly empty; had they been crowded, someone could've easily overheard Adam. "Why the hell didn't you say something?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Clare said, feigning ignorance as she turned away and rummaged through her locker for her Biology textbook.

"Stop lying to me, Clare!" Adam all but shouted, the hurt evident in his voice. "Is it true you've been tutoring him?"

Clare bit her lip, and hesitated a moment before asking in a quivering voice, "Where did you hear that?"

"My mom!" Adam cried incredulously. "So is it true? It is, isn't it? That's what you've been doing after school - why you've been too busy to hang out with Eli and me!" He sounded betrayed, and Clare felt a pang in her chest as he went on, growing more and more accusatory. "What the hell, Clare! Why would you help that bastard? He almost stabbed Eli -"

"He was never really going to!" Clare hissed before she could stop herself, whipping around to pin Adam with a cold glare.

Adam reeled back in disbelief, staring at her like she'd just revealed herself to be the Anti-Christ.

"Is that what _he_ told you?" He spat, unable to even utter Fitz's name. He shook his head and grimaced. "I can't believe you're actually _defending_ that asshole after all the shit he's put us through!"

"I'm not defending him!" Clare snapped. "I'm just saying that -"

Before she could finish her sentence, another voice cut in.

"Whoa, what'd I miss?"

Eli stood a few feet away, a perplexed expression etched across his face as he took in the sight in front of him. Clare pursed her lips together and looked away guiltily, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Adam's knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists and held his tongue. Eli quirked a brow, confused gaze darting back and forth between his best friend and his girlfriend.

After what seemed like an eternity, Clare broke the tense silence that had fallen on them, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Fitz is back."

The second bell echoed loudly throughout the school; any lingering students sped off to class, leaving only the trio of misfits behind. Clare knew she wasn't going to make it to Biology in time, but that hardly seemed to matter as she waited for Eli's reaction with bated breath. She saw the color drain from his face until he resembled a ghost; for a split second, he appeared catatonic, but it was a state short-lived.

In the blink of an eye, the entire atmosphere seemed to change. Clare watched in horror as Eli's face became red with anger; his eyes darkened and she could see the veins protruding from his neck. His entire body shook with uncontrollable rage and his breathing grew shallow and heavy. Then an angry cry ripped from the back of his throat - making Clare nearly jump out of her skin - and he slammed his fist into a nearby locker, leaving a sizable dent in its wake.

Without a word, he stormed off.

She didn't know where to, and neither she or Adam followed him to find out. They knew it was better to let Eli be alone for a while, at least until he cooled down.

After about a minute, Clare peered over at Adam.

"Are you going to tell him?" She asked softly. "About… me?"

Adam narrowed his eyes.

"You've already dug your grave. Whether or not you decide to sleep in it is up to you." He said cryptically.

Then he walked away, leaving Clare standing alone in the deserted hallway.

X

**Okay, so… I've decided to split this chapter into two parts. The next chapter is going to deal more with Fitz and how he's welcomed back… or rather, how he's not. Also, Bianca and Owen will make their debut in the second half as well.**

** Anyway, I'd like to apologize for the delayed update, but school's been keeping me super busy. My updates probably won't be very frequent for the next couple of weeks, either, so I apologize in advance for that. I will **_**try**_** though.**

** This chapter feels kind of "meh" to me. I re-wrote it a few times, but I'm not particularly satisfied with it. I blame the stress from school for that, though. **

** … I feel like I'm forgetting to say something.**

** Anyway, thank you so much for being patient! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	12. Blame Game II

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Ugh, this has been stressful. I've had to study for exams and finish assignments, so I've been quite busy. My apologies for the delay, though.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Blame Game II**_

X

By the time Fitz stepped into the cafeteria, it was already crowded. Normally he ate lunch in the stairwell or out back, unless the weather was bad, but the new rules had made it so that he could only eat in _designated_ zones. Fitz rolled his eyes, and after waiting in line for ten minutes, he got his food - and lost his appetite as soon as he saw the _blob_ that Sheila had scooped onto his plate. He couldn't quite identify it, but it reminded him of the gunk left behind on the bottom of the chilli pots at the restaurant his mom waitressed at during the week.

He gagged inwardly and then peered up, taking in the multitude of blues, reds, yellows and purples. It was hard to tell anyone apart with the uniforms, even though each grade had its own specific color, and without anyone to focus on, the room was just a cacophony of _noise_ - like the buzzing of a beehive. He couldn't distinguish any words. It was no wonder Degrassi's foreign transfers had trouble with the language - it probably sounded like gibberish to them, Fitz mused.

Scanning the ocean of students, he finally zeroed in on some familiar faces. Taking a deep breath, Fitz slowly made his way over to the group. They weren't exactly his _friends_, nor would he ever consider them such, but they were guys who he hung out with at parties and who generally followed his lead.

Fitz didn't know how long he stood there while the group talked animatedly, like he didn't even exist. It wasn't until he cleared his throat that one of them looked up and silenced the rest before turning to Fitz once more.

"Yeah? What do you want?"

Seriously, was this guy an idiot or what? No, he was just standing there for the hell of it. Fitz frowned.

"Move over, man." He said.

The guy - Kyle, if he remembered correctly - stared blankly at him. Fitz sighed, growing more than a little irritated with the other boy's blatant stupidity, and promptly jerked his head. "Do I have to spell it out for you? _Move_."

But Kyle didn't budge.

"Sorry," the curly-haired teen answered coolly. There was a certain smugness to his tone that made Fitz's blood boil. "Table's full. Guess you'll have to sit somewhere else, Fitzy-boy."

Fitz just about socked him in the mouth.

"What did you call me?" He growled.

Rather than answer, Kyle remained silent. The dark-haired boy across from him spoke up instead.

"Fitz, just _go_. Nobody wants you here."

Fitz gripped the tray in his hands tightly, resisting the urge to smash it over the other kid's head. _No one_ told Mark Fitzgerald where he could and could not sit, especially not some insignificant little _punk_. With that in mind, Fitz slammed his tray down onto the table's surface and was about to grab the other boy - Chris - by the collar when he was suddenly shoved forward. Regaining his balance, Fitz spun around to face his assailant and found a much larger boy standing behind him. He recognized him from the football team, one of the guys that Owen played with, and though he was much larger than Fitz himself, that hardly deterred him.

He raised his fist, ready to strike - and then froze.

Mr. Simpson's words echoed in his head.

_"One more incident, and you're gone."_

No. He couldn't have that. Just the thought of his mom's face if he was expelled made him sick to his stomach. Then there was…

_Clare_.

He couldn't let her down, either.

"Shit." Fitz muttered, lowering his arm.

The oaf in front of him laughed.

"What's wrong? Are you afraid to fight me? Is that it?"

Fitz glared at him, but said nothing more as he brushed past him and made his way out of the cafeteria. As the doors swung shut behind him, he could've sworn he heard an applause.

oOo

Clare let out a shuddery breath as Eli's warm lips traced a path from her ear to the crook of her neck, his tongue darting out every so often to taste her skin.

She had found him at the start of lunch and had planned on scolding him for skipping class, but when she saw him hunched over Morty's wheel with bloodied knuckles and angry tears in his eyes, she couldn't bring herself to. She would've left him alone, but instead ended up in the passenger seat while he vented to her.

_"How could Simpson let that menace back in, Clare? What could he have _possibly _been thinking? It doesn't make any sense!"_

All the while, Clare's conscience had been screaming at her to tell Eli the truth, but when she'd opened her mouth, all that came out was, _"I don't know."_

She'd kissed him, not long after that, cutting him off mid-sentence. A cowardly attempt to distract Eli and take his mind off Fitz - and to temporarily relieve her of her own guilt. She hadn't expected him to succumb so quickly, nor respond as aggressively as he did, pouring all of his frustrations into it. Now she was pressed against him while he attacked her neck with kisses and gripped her hips tightly.

It was a good thing Morty's windows were tinted. If Mr. Simpson came out and saw them right now, they'd be in a world of trouble. Her parents would _freak_, for sure.

_'Would they?'_ A voice taunted in the back of her head. _'When was the last time they even paid attention to us?'_

A sad whimper escaped her lips, and she knew Eli heard it, but he never faltered.

Her parents' fighting had gotten progressively worse in recent weeks, and most of the time they were too busy screaming at each other to realize she was just up the stairs. She could hear _everything_, but it was like they'd completely forgotten that they had a daughter. Her dad spent most of his time at work just to avoid coming home most nights, and wine had become her mom's new best friend when she wasn't throwing herself into church functions.

Clare swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to erase those thoughts and focus on Eli's ministrations and how _he_ was making her feel instead.

_'Really, _really_ good…'_

His hold on her had loosened some, and as he suckled on the base of her neck and caressed her sides, she decided to do some exploring of her own. She let her right hand down from its place on his shoulder and journey south. Just as her fingers touched his belt buckle, however, Eli pulled back and turned away from her.

She cocked her head to the side. "Eli?"

"Lunch is almost over." He said in a strained voice. "You should probably go back inside. I'll catch up with you."

Clare furrowed her brow in confusion. It wasn't until she lowered her gaze that she saw the trembling hands folded strategically on his lap, and realization dawned on her. She averted her eyes, blushing furiously.

"O-of course." She stammered.

After quickly kissing his cheek, she climbed out of Morty and left Eli to his own devices.

oOo

He needed a fucking smoke.

The day wasn't even over yet and he was tired as _fuck_. Splashing cold water on his face, Fitz gripped the edge of the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Tired eyes gazed back at him and he had to look away.

In every class he'd gone to, he'd been treated with open hostility. No one wanted to be his partner, much less sit next to him. Pointed fingers and accusing whispers followed him in the halls, and _now_ he didn't even have a place to eat at lunch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so stressed; it almost made him regret coming back.

Standing up straight, Fitz dried his hands on his pants and stole one last peek at the mirror before exiting the washroom. He wandered aimlessly down the hall, and as he passed a particular row of lockers, he thought back to _that night_. He could still vividly recall the look on Eli's face as he cornered him, gleefully watching him pale considerably when he realized that Fitz was _done_ being fucked with; that Eli could take his fake truces and "apologies" and shove them right up his ass. He remembered wanting to hurt - even _kill_ - Eli after he'd humiliated him, but…

He was no murderer.

Tearing his eyes away from the scene, Fitz continued walking.

Before he knew it, he was out back where the bus usually picked him up.

"Well, well! Look what the cat dragged in!" Snapping out of his stupor, Fitz spotted Owen Milligan standing just a few feet away.

Fitz smirked and bumped fists with the football player before his attention was drawn to the smaller figure standing behind Owen. Bianca DeSousa leaned back against the brick wall with her arms folded, dark curls framing her face and sharp eyes narrowed dangerously. Unlike Owen, she didn't seem too pleased to see him - in fact, she looked downright _pissed_.

"Well, I'm off to take a leak." Owen announced, and like that he was gone, leaving Fitz alone with Bianca.

"Bee -"

"Shut up."

A blanket of silence enveloped them. Fitz sighed and fell back against the wall beside her. From the corner of his eye, he saw her tense up, but she made no move to leave. He studied his friend closely, taking in her unusual appearance. It was weird seeing her in a polo and khaki pants, so completely _covered_ with not even a hint of stomach or boob - it was like he'd entered some kind of alternate universe.

Bianca must have noticed him staring, because she crossed her arms and pinned him with an icy glare. Fitz grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry, but you look like a nun!" He joked.

"Fuck _you_." Bianca spat, before opening her purse and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. She lit one and brought it to her glossy lips. After about a minute or so, she peered over at him and held out the pack. "Here. You look like you could use one."

Fitz smiled graciously and took one. "Thanks. Light me?"

She nodded and did just that, before putting her lighter away. Fitz closed his eyes as he took a long drag.

"So… you're back?" Bianca asked after a while. "I thought you were expelled."

"I thought so too." The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a smirk. "But apparently I've got an angel or something looking out for me."

Bianca snorted.

"Don't tell me you suddenly believe in all that Jesus crap."

Fitz shrugged, stuffing his free hand into his pocket. "Nah."

He stared at the cancer stick between his fingers, flicking away the growing bundle of ashes.

_"Smoking will kill you."_ Clare's matter-of-fact warning rang somewhere in his subconscious.

"Get out of my head." He muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just talking to myself."

"Because _that's_ not crazy."

Fitz glanced up, ready to retort, but his words got caught in his throat when he noticed the troubled expression on her face. He furrowed his brow. "What's wrong, Bee?"

Instantly, the walls went up.

"Nothing!" She snapped.

He knew she was lying through her teeth, but he wasn't about to persist. Bianca was far too stubborn; she wasn't going to tell him until she wanted to. Or until she was drunk.

"Whatever." He said, taking one last puff before tossing the butt onto the ground. "See you around, Bee."

With that, he went back inside.

Lunch would be over soon, and so he decided to head straight to his locker to retrieve his books. When he reached his destination, however, he came to an abrupt halt. It suddenly became painfully obvious that he wasn't wanted, for scribbled across his locker in permanent marker was a simple message - but Fitz heard it loud and clear.

_**GET OUT!**_

X

**And that's the end of chapter 12.**

** I don't know why, but this was a difficult chapter to write, which is part of the reason it took so long to update. Well, that and exams. Also, the original draft only had the scene with Bianca, and trying to start the chapter from **_**that**_** point was like pulling teeth. So I mixed it up a little, added a few other scenes, and voila. I even threw in some Eclare goodness, which I hadn't planned **_**at all**_**. It just sort of happened.**

** In any case… how were Fitz's interactions with Bianca and Owen? I mean, supposedly they're all friends, but on the show the only time we've seen them together is when they're bullying. I like to think that Fitz and Bianca are somewhat close, though… but right now she's mad at him, and for a number of reasons… which will be explained later. Originally it was going to be explained in **_**this**_** chapter, but things changed. So… yeah.**

** Also, Kyle and Chris. Those two guys who were following Fitz around in "Try Honesty" - remember them? Yes, well, I gave them names. They don't have names in canon, so **_**I**_** decided to name them. Aren't I just swell?**

** Anyway, I think that's all I had to say. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, and once again, I apologize for the delay. I'll try to update more quickly next time.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	13. Tongue Tied

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Enjoy!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Tongue Tied**_

X

Fitz stifled a yawn, staring droopy-eyed at the board while the teacher droned on and on. As usual, he was sitting off to the side of the room, away from his classmates who wanted nothing to do with him.

He'd been back at Degrassi for a week and a half now, and while people had stopped making such a big deal about it, they still went out of their way to make sure he knew he wasn't welcome. The assholes who had vandalized his locker were suspended, after security cameras caught them on tape. He didn't know the "perpetrators" personally - had never spoken to them in his life - but recognized them, vaguely, as a couple of younger guys who sometimes hung out at the ravine.

His tutoring sessions with Clare were still in effect, as ordered by Simpson, every other day after school at the steakhouse and sometimes his place, but never hers. His brow furrowed as he thought of Clare. She'd been acting really weird - secretive, or whatever - and if he didn't know any better, he'd think she was trying to avoid him. Only he didn't know why she would, because he couldn't recall having done anything that would _make_ her want to… at least not lately. But whenever they crossed paths in the hall, she'd take off before he could say anything.

Fitz's mind drifted back to when he'd first seen her upon his return.

_He waited until the classroom was empty before stepping out into the semi-crowded hallway. Sighing loudly, he rubbed the back of his neck and was about to head to math when something - or rather, some_one_ - grabbed his attention. Standing no more than just a few feet away was none other than Clare, talking to another student by her locker. She was laughing, the cross around her neck glinting as she tossed her head back, but when she finally regained her composure and met his gaze, her smile fell._

_ Confusion gripped him like a vice, but before he could do anything, her companion turned around. For the first time since Vegas Night, Fitz found himself staring directly at Eli Goldsworthy, and if looks could kill, Fitz knew he'd be dead, because the eyes that stared back at him were cold and swimming with unbridled hate. But there was something else lurking within them… fear - and with that realization, triumph filled him._

_ He didn't approach the pair, simply nodded in their general direction, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips, and then continued on his way._

A sudden clatter jerked Fitz back to the present. Glancing down, he saw that he'd accidentally knocked his binder off his desk. Sniggers immediately broke out around him.

"That's enough!" The teacher snapped, bringing the laughter to a halt. "Mister Fitzgerald, pick up your book and stop daydreaming in my class."

Fitz nodded numbly and did as he was told.

"Okay," the teacher went on, "time for a pop quiz! I trust you've all read the material?"

As a collective groan erupted throughout the room, a sense of relief washed over Fitz. For once, he was prepared, and when a fill-in-the-blank sheet titled _Lord of the Flies_ was placed in front of him, he knew he was ready.

"Begin."

.

.

.

"Time's up!"

On cue, the bell rang. Fitz jumped to his feet, gathering his stuff and darting out of the classroom, but not before handing in his quiz. He was fairly confident he did well on it, but quickly put those thoughts to rest. He craved a cigarette and hadn't had one since earlier that morning, before first period, hours ago. Quickly shoving his belongings into his locker and grabbing his hoodie, he was about to make his way to the back of the school when he spotted Clare.

And she was alone, at last.

He smirked and crept closer to her. She was so caught up in her book that she didn't even sense his presence until it was too late.

"Hey," he greeted casually.

Clare started, gasping and dropping her book as she whirled around, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Fitz!" She cried.

"That's my name." Came the smug response. He knelt down to retrieve her book, sparing a curious glance at the cover and snorting. "_Fortnight_? Really, Clare?"

He expected her have a clever comeback, but she stayed silent. Instead, she merely snatched the book out of his hand, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth like she was nervous.

"I should… I should probably get going." She said. "I need to -" she broke off, paling as she stared over his shoulder.

Frowning, Fitz followed her gaze and scowled when he saw Eli at the end of the hall, practically seething where he stood watching them. Fitz turned back to Clare, who was trying to manoeuvre around him.

"Clare, wait -" He reached for her, but she recoiled, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, I have to talk to Eli." She told him softly. "Later, okay?"

With that, she brushed past him and joined her precious _boyfriend_. Fitz observed the scene from a distance as she said something to Eli and then dragged him around the corner and out of sight.

oOo

"What was _that_ about?" Eli hissed at her once they were out of earshot. "Why were you talking to _Fitz_?"

Clare hesitantly lifted her gaze to meet his. "Eli… I dropped my book. He just happened to be walking by and picked it up for me. That's all."

Eli scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Accepting help from that _Neanderthal_…" he muttered.

"Eli, don't." Clare warned, narrowing her eyes. "He was just being nice."

Eli barked out a laugh. "Clare, I doubt 'nice' is even in that guy's vocabulary!"

Clare thought back to Vegas Night - to before the Ipecac fiasco, in the hallway when Fitz had given her the corsage. Eli didn't know _that_ Fitz; he only knew the one who'd cornered him with a knife. As far as Eli was concerned, Fitz was a monster - but Clare _knew_ that that wasn't the case; that beneath the aloof, tough-guy, _bully_ façade, Fitz could be sweet when he wanted to be.

"Maybe… maybe he's changed?" She offered weakly.

She knew it wouldn't convince Eli, but it was worth a try. She _needed_ to make him see, though. If she could do that, then she could finally tell him the truth.

"People don't change over night, Clare. Especially not people like _Fitz_."

Clare frowned, frustration bubbling up inside of her, and crossed her arms defiantly.

"Oh, so you're an expert now?" She snapped. "_You_ of all people -" she caught herself before she said something that could potentially offend her boyfriend.

Nonetheless, Eli seemed rather taken aback by her reaction.

"What? No, that's not what I'm saying! Don't put words into my mouth!" He cried. His brows then drew together. "Wait. You aren't actually _defending_ him_,_ are you?"

"Who's putting words into whose mouth now, Eli?" Clare snapped, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "No! I'm not! But… _please_ promise me you won't start something over this!"

Eli averted his gaze, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he deliberated. He was struggling with himself; the inner conflict was practically etched across his face. Finally, he spoke.

"I won't." He bit out.

"I mean it, Eli. No more feuds." Clare admonished.

"I _won't_," he repeated more softly. "I'm not going to risk losing you."

Clare's frown melted; her heart fluttered, and she gave him a small smile, touching his arm.

"Thank you. I'll… see you after class, then?"

He nodded, but said nothing. With that, Clare blew him a kiss and walked away.

.

.

.

"So nice of you to finally join us, Clare." Ms. Oh drawled when Clare stepped into Media Immersions.

Clare flushed as curious heads perked up, and she suddenly became the center of attention. "S-sorry… I just… I dropped my books on the way here…"

The bespectacled woman sighed, clearly not buying her white lie. "I've heard that one before. Just take your seat."

Clare nodded, settling down beside Adam while Ms. Oh resumed teaching. Adam had given her the silent treatment for two days after learning of her "arrangement" with Fitz, before caving and talking to her again. He said it was so Eli wouldn't get suspicious - because _he_ didn't want to have to be the one to break the news to him - but Clare had a feeling that there was more to it than that. She didn't push him, though.

Adam nudged her and leaned over.

"So… have you told him yet?" He murmured.

"No," she whispered back.

He shot her an incredulous look.

"Clare -"

"I'm waiting for the right time."

Adam shook his head disapprovingly. "Just keep digging that hole, Clare."

She was about to retort when another voice interjected.

"Mister Torres, Miss Edwards - something you want to share with the rest of us?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then be quiet."

X

**Ehh… not sure how I feel about this one. This chapter actually wasn't in the original draft, but… I re-wrote the layout, added some new stuff and took out some others.**

** I apologize if Eli comes off as a jealous boyfriend… that wasn't the intention, but… given the circumstances… yeah.**

** … damn, there was more I wanted to say, but my mind just pulled a blank, so… I guess that's all for now.**

** Hopefully, you guys enjoyed. I know this chapter was a bit on the short side, and I'll try to make the next one longer.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	14. Tension

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Long-ass chapter to make up for the last few, which have been kind of on the short side.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Tension**_

X

Bianca DeSousa sighed irritably as she rummaged through her bag in search of her phone. Ron-Ron had texted her less than a minute ago, and she'd been so distracted lately that it hadn't even occurred to her to set the damn thing on vibrate. So when Dead Hand started blaring, cutting Perino off mid-sentence, she was promptly sent to the office for "being disruptive".

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Perino had never liked her and was just using the new rules to his advantage, getting rid of all the "bad seeds" whenever the opportunity arose. It was so fucking stupid. She had half a mind to transfer someplace else.

Hurriedly replying to Ron-Ron, Bianca put her cell away and was about to head to Simpson's office when she suddenly collided with another body. She stumbled back, falling against a nearby locker to catch herself before she hit the floor. Pushing her hair out of her face, she glanced up to see who had run into her, and scowled when she met Adam Torres' gaze.

He appeared startled, and for a split second, maybe even a little _afraid_ as his eyes grew wide and the color drained from his face like he'd just seen a ghost. But then, almost as quickly as it came, the terror vanished, replaced with cool indifference, and soon Bianca could no longer read his expression at all.

It wasn't like the time they had danced or flirted by her locker, and she'd found herself both mesmerized and nervous at just how big and blue and _pure_ his eyes were - or how _genuine_. Eyes that weren't glazed over with animalistic lust, staring at her like a piece of meat; but at the same time, it'd felt as though they were penetrating her very soul. She didn't know what to make of it, and _that_ both scared her and intrigued her.

_'Maybe, maybe, maybe,'_ she'd thought all those months ago as her heart skipped a beat and she allowed herself to be captivated.

_"I think I could be your type."_

_'Maybe…'_

_"Don't look at me with those eyes…"_

Bile rose in her throat as she recalled what happened next. Shaking her head, Bianca snapped out of her daze and fixed a glare on the boy (_'Girl!'_ Her mind corrected bitterly) in front of her.

"Walk much?" She hissed.

"I could say the same about you." Adam muttered. "It's not _my_ fault you weren't paying attention to where you were going."

Bianca seethed, clenching her fists. "_What was that_?"

Adam blinked, but didn't answer her. Instead, he merely shrugged his shoulders and began making his way down the hall. Fury bubbled up inside of her, and before she could stop herself, she reached out and grabbed his arm tightly, digging her sharp, manicured nails into his flesh and causing him to wince.

"I'm not done with you!" She spat.

Adam's entire demeanour changed then. Bianca couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was, but when he lifted his gaze to meet hers, she froze.

"No, but I'm done with _you_." He said coldly, ripping his arm from her grasp.

Without another word, he turned around and walked away.

oOo

Clare arrived at Fitz's apartment about an hour after school let out, after a brief meeting with Degrassi's Yearbook Committee - one of the only clubs that hadn't been disbanded during the crackdown. The new "system" that had been put into effect over the break had drained most of the extracurricular funds, and since yearbooks meant money, it only made sense to keep the committee around. It wasn't exactly _fair_, and the Power Squad certainly wasn't thrilled - the Captain especially - but it _was_ sensible. That much she would begrudgingly admit.

Snapping out of her reverie, she plastered a smile on her face when Abby answered the door. The older woman's eyes practically lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw her, and she stepped aside to let Clare in.

"Mark!" She called over her shoulder, "Clare's here!"

No response.

Abby frowned, but said nothing of it as she turned back to Clare. "He's probably in his room sleeping. Do me a favor and wake him up? I'd do it myself, but I have to get going - my shift starts in ten minutes." She let out a tired sigh before snatching her keys off the counter. "If you get hungry, there's some leftover spaghetti in the fridge that you can pop in the microwave. Okay? So just… make yourself at home, I guess."

She giggled to herself, and then she was gone.

Clare grinned lopsidedly before making her way to Fitz's bedroom. When she opened the door, however, she was unprepared for what she found.

Two things then registered in her hormone-addled brain. The first being that Fitz was very much awake. The second being that he was half-naked.

All she could do was gape at him in shock. He was shirtless, standing before her in nothing but khaki pants which hung low off his hips, revealing a hint of plaid underneath. His red polo lay discarded on the floor somewhere, but Clare paid no heed to it, too busy committing to memory the toned muscles of her boyfriend's arch enemy.

Heat rose to her cheeks, and she licked her lips unconsciously as she continued to stare, but it wasn't until she heard a throat clear that her attention was drawn to Fitz's smirking face.

"Never pegged you for a voyeur, Clare. Like what you see?" He said smugly.

Clare squealed, tearing her eyes away from him and covering her face with her hands.

"I am _so_ sorry!" She cried, feeling utterly humiliated. "I know I should've knocked first, but your mom said you were sleeping and well, I just thought I'd wake you up but clearly we were both wrong and - and - did I mention I was _sorry_? This is so embarrassing! I can't believe what an _idiot_ I am, barging into your room like this and -"

"Clare, chill!" Fitz laughed.

She heard a rustling sound, and a few seconds later her hands were being pried away from her face by a fully-clothed Fitz. She couldn't bring herself to meet his playful gaze, and kept her own on the poster behind him of the airbrushed model with tanned skin and blonde hair, and enormous breasts that practically spilled out of her bikini top.

Fitz's room was, without a doubt, a _guy's_ room. There was no mistaking it. Though admittedly, last she'd been in it, she hadn't really taken the time to actually look around. It wasn't as messy as before, but empty beer cans and used tissues littered his nightstand, and there was a distinct odour floating around that she wasn't sure she even _wanted_ to try to identify. Clare couldn't help but blush when she spotted the small stack of Playboy magazines peeking out from under his bed.

"What? Never seen a guy shirtless?" Fitz chuckled.

She glanced up at him, twiddling her fingers. When he quirked a brow, she fought the urge to hide her face once more.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaked. "About… you know… not knocking. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm not usually this rude!"

"Whatever, Clare. It's _fine_." Fitz assured her, still clearly amused. "I mean, at least I wasn't doing something else."

Clare cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Something else?"

Fitz's lips curled into a devilish smirk. His eyes gleamed before he made a crude hand gesture. When she caught on, Clare's mouth fell open in shock, her cheeks burning as she was suddenly bombarded with mental images of Fitz doing… _that_.

Her reaction brought about another round of laughter from him.

"You've never done it?" He managed between snickers. "Why doesn't _that_ surprise me?"

"That's a bit personal, don't you think?" She said, flustered.

Fitz shrugged and flopped back onto his unkempt bed. Clare stood where she was, unsure of what to do, until he sat up and patted the spot next to him. "Lots of room here."

She faltered. Here she was, in a boy's bedroom - a boy who _wasn't_ Eli, her _boyfriend_ - without any parental supervision, and he wanted her to sit on his bed. As she debated with herself internally, Fitz, having sensed her hesitance, decided to take matters into his own hands. Reaching out, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down - straight onto his lap.

Clare let out a surprised shriek, one that reverberated all throughout the tiny apartment. When she noticed their compromising position, panic consumed her, and suddenly all she could think about was how horribly _wrong_ it would look if someone were to walk in at that very second to find her straddling _Mark Fitzgerald_ of all people. With that in mind, she began to squirm, but Fitz's arms tightened around her and held her in place, preventing her from escaping.

"C'mon, I don't bite… unless you want me to." He said, wriggling his brows suggestively.

A wave of nausea washed over her.

_'What's he saying? What's he _doing_? I don't understand -!'_

She thrashed harder, her vision blurring with tears.

"Stop it! Let go of me, please!" She screamed.

Fitz's grin disappeared, his eyes widening, and he released her instantly. Clare lost her balance and toppled to the floor, landing hard on her bottom, but was too busy trying to get away from Fitz to care. Her back hit the door and a choked sob left her lips. Before she could register what was happening, Fitz was kneeling in front of her, looking both alarmed and confused.

"Clare? Clare, what's wrong?" The concern was evident in his voice, and Clare's mind reeled.

Overwhelmed with hysteria, she slapped him across the face.

"_Get away from me_!" She screeched. "What is _wrong_ with you? Why would you _do_ that? I -!"

Fitz cut her off, still clutching the side of his face.

"Clare, look, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to freak you out. It was just a joke -!"

"A _joke_?" She repeated, aghast. "You call _that_ a _joke_?" She stared at him in disbelief, her body quivering uncontrollably, before narrowing her eyes dangerously. "You have one sick, demented sense of humour then! First pulling a knife on Eli, and now _this_?"

"I'm sorry!" Fitz cried desperately.

"Sorry isn't going to cut it. Not this time."

Clare got up, her legs still wobbling, and yanked open his bedroom door. Fitz followed her out into the living room and over to the front door, but before she could get _that_ one open, he slammed it shut and blocked it. She glared at him, crossing her arms.

"What do I have to do to make you believe me?" He asked.

"Nothing. So _move_. I'm going home." She answered coldly.

"I'm not letting you leave, Clare. Not until you forgive me." Fitz told her.

"Holding me hostage isn't helping your case!" She snapped. "Just let me go!"

Fitz shook his head. He was being ridiculously stubborn, like a child refusing to eat his vegetables, but given his size, Clare knew there was no way she was going to be able to get around him. She sighed, combing her fingers through her hair as she tried to think of a way to get past him. Then, as if her prayers had been answered, Abby's words came flooding back. She bit her lip, and reluctantly met Fitz's gaze, only to be taken aback by the longing look in his eyes, solidifying Abby's claim. An idea crept into her head - a horrible, cruel idea, but one that could potentially work if she was right. Stepping closer to Fitz, she lifted her hand to cradle his face. Fitz stiffened, but quickly relaxed and leaned into her touch. Rising to her toes, she let her lips brush over his earlobe, making him shudder.

"Let me go," she whispered. "Please…"

His whole body tensed, and for a second she thought that maybe she had misinterpreted Abby, but then she felt him nod slowly. He moved aside, his eyes downcast, and Clare thanked him quietly before opening the front door.

As she ventured down the hall, she could feel Fitz's gaze on her, but she didn't dare look back.

.

.

.

When Clare was out of sight, Fitz fell back against the kitchen counter with a defeated sigh. His heart was still pounding, his palms sweaty, and he could still feel her fingers lingering on his skin, soft like feathers.

A frustrated grunt escaped his throat.

He'd fucked up. Royally. _Again_.

Damn it!

How could he be so _stupid_?

Angry tears gathered in his eyes, but he hurriedly wiped them away before re-entering his room. He was about to collapse on his bed, but stopped when he heard a _beep_. Glancing to the side, he found a cell phone lying a few feet away from him. Clare's cell phone. It must have fallen out of her pocket when -

He shook his head, trying to erase _that_ thought. Grabbing the phone, he flipped it open.

Alli Bhandari's name popped up on the screen, followed by a lengthy message.

_**need a girls nite. drew wont stop calling me. does he really think ill go back 2 him after he cheated on me with that skank bianca? i hope she has something and gave it 2 him. anyway, call me wen u get this.**_

Fitz furrowed his brow.

Bianca and _Drew_? Drew _Torres_? The tranny's brother?

When the hell did _that_ happen? And why hadn't she told him? Was _that_ why she had been acting all weird lately?

Exiting Alli's text, Fitz brought up Clare's list of contacts and began to skim through the names.

Wesley Betenkamp, Alli Bhandari, Sav Bhandari, Declan Coyne, Connor DeLaurier, Darcy Edwards, Eli Goldsworthy, KC Guthrie, Jenna Middleton, Adam Torres, Dave Turner, Peter Stone, Jane Vaughan… the rest were people that he didn't recognize.

He scrolled back to Eli, jealousy swelling up inside of him. Then an idea struck and he smirked, clicking on the emo freak's name. He started typing.

_**were done. i luv fitz now. i luv how he fucks me long n hard with his big cock. i need a real man so go kill urself plz.**_

His thumb hovered over the "send" button, itching to press it.

Clare would know it was him, though - and hate him.

Fitz sighed, backspacing the message entirely before closing the phone and slipping it into his pocket. Standing up, he wondered if Clare would still be waiting at the bus stop, or if he'd have to give her back her phone at school.

He decided to check.

.

.

.

Clare shivered as she waited at the bus stop just around the corner from the apartment complex where Fitz and Abby resided. Rubbing her arms, she regretted wearing a skirt that day, and not bringing an extra set of _warm_ clothes to change into.

Winter was approaching fast; the sky was already dark, despite it only being about five-thirty in the afternoon, and she could see her breath every time she exhaled. She _really_ wished she'd brought a coat, at the very least - the thin material of her school sweater did _nothing_ for her.

As Clare watched for the bus, her mind drifted back to Fitz, and what he had done. What _she_ had done. Guilt ate away at her conscience, and disgust filled her to the very brim, more so because of _her_ actions rather than Fitz's. She had manipulated him, using his supposed feelings for her against him. What sort of vile human being could _do_ such a thing?

So distracted by her own thoughts, Clare didn't hear the footprints behind her until a shadow loomed over her, and a gruff voice broke through her reverie.

"Hey, babe. What's a cute girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?"

She glanced up. A guy in his early twenties was standing there. He was tall, with greasy hair and an oily complexion, and squinty eyes clouded with hunger. Clare swallowed hard, fear quickly replacing all of her previous emotions. She promptly turned away from him, focusing on the road instead, and tried to ignore him.

_'Go away, go away, go away, go away, go away…'_ Her mind chanted.

A pained yelp fell from her lips when she was suddenly hauled to her feet, her arm caught in the stranger's bruising grip.

"Hey! I'm talking to you, you little cunt!" He snarled.

Clare whimpered, struggling to get out of his grasp, but her efforts were futile.

The man pinned her against the glass of the bus stop, leering at her and pressing his body to hers. Covering her mouth with one hand, he used the other to slide up her side, stopping to squeeze her right breast through her shirt. She tried to scream, but the sound was muffled. The man laughed.

"I'll teach you not to ignore me…" He sneered, lifting the hem of her skirt and touching her thigh. She squeezed her legs together in an attempt to keep his hand from wandering any higher, but the man was stronger than her, forcing her legs apart with his knee and tracing the edge of her underwear with his fingers.

Clare could feel tears streaming freely down her cheeks as realization dawned on her.

She was going to be raped.

Just like Darcy.

Only she was going to know who did it, and see his face in her nightmares for the rest of her life.

_'No… please… no!'_

The man started to tug at her panties.

She cried harder.

He unzipped his pants and she closed her eyes.

Then, something happened.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!"

X

**What's this? A cliffhanger? Oh, yeah. Because I'm **_**just**_** that mean.**

** Okay, so first of all… most of this wasn't in the original draft. In fact, the only scene that was, was the scene where Clare walked in on Fitz shirtless. This chapter turned out **_**way**_** different than I intended, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I like it a lot better than the last one, but I'm still iffy about it overall.**

** I decided to give you guys a glimpse into Bianca's perspective. It's a scene that's been in my head for a **_**long**_** time, but I didn't know if I wanted to add it simply because this fic is, first and foremost, centered around Fitz and Clare - and so those were the only two perspectives I was going to write from. Also, this is my first time writing Bianca, so **_**hopefully**_** she was in character. We don't know a lot about her, so it was kind of hard.**

** Now, onto the Fitz/Clare stuff. I imagine you guys are unhappy with **_**both**_** of their behaviour. There's a reason for this. I'm not just pulling it out of my ass. Even though that **_**particular**_** scene wasn't in the original draft, I did have a similar one written… it was just going to happen a bit later in the story. But it's come to my attention that sometimes I tend to drag the story on, and for that I apologize. I do have my reasons, though.**

** Also… rape as drama? Okay, admittedly, the last scene I came up with last night. I know it seems a bit cliché, but it'll play into what happens in the next chapter - and also, something that will happen later on in the fic, both of which **_**have**_** been planned out since the very beginning.**

** As for some random tidbits… can you tell I don't text often? And when I do, I'm grammatically correct. I don't use all the abbreviations and whatnot, so trying to do so was like pulling teeth, but I imagine that Alli - while book smart - wouldn't be so formal via texting. Neither would Fitz, for that matter. Wasn't his message to Eli just lovely? Too bad he deleted it. His Clare conscience keeps getting in the way of all his shenanigans. **

** Anyway, that's all I can think of right now. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think.**


	15. What's in a Name?

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Oh, wow. Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! I'm so happy you enjoyed the last chapter. Now, onto the next one!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**What's in a Name?**_

X

_"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!"_

The next few seconds were like a blur to Clare. She felt the weight of her assailant disappear, and heard a sickening _crunch_ not long after, followed by a pained groan. When she opened her eyes, she saw the man hunched over, clutching his now bloodied and broken nose. Her stomach churned at the sight, but before she could do anything else, a larger body clothed in a familiar vest-jacket, obstructed her view. The smell of stale cigarettes tickled her nostrils, but it wasn't until strong hands grasped her shoulders lightly that Clare finally looked up, right into Mark Fitzgerald's eyes.

She opened her mouth to say something - _anything_ - except nothing came out. It was as if her voice had stopped working.

Then Fitz let her go, turning his back to her as he advanced on her attacker like a lion stalking its prey - and delivered a swift kick to his groin. The man dropped to his knees with an agonized cry, but Fitz didn't even flinch.

Clare watched in morbid fascination as Fitz threw the man down and proceeded to unleash his fury.

He was relentless, throwing one punch after another without even letting her attacker get so much as a hit in. Her would-be rapist struggled beneath Fitz, trying to shield himself from the blows, but Fitz overpowered him.

Clare's breathing grew ragged. She had seen Fitz angry before - could vividly recall the cold and calculating expression he wore when he cornered Eli _that night_ - but the scene unfolding in front of her was something else entirely. Fitz was _ruthless_. This was a side of Fitz she hadn't seen before, red in the face with veins protruding from his neck and eyes that were nothing short of feral. He was like an animal.

"- THE HELL MAN!"

Clare gasped when the man suddenly gained the upper hand, using what strength he had to throw Fitz off him. He scrambled to get away, but Fitz was too fast. The bully grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the brick wall of the abandoned factory behind the bus stop, pressing his arm into his neck to cut off his air supply.

"You're dead," Fitz growled, using his free hand to dig through his back pocket and pull something out, "You're fucking _dead_!"

A dangerous glint caught Clare's eye.

There, in Fitz's hand, was a knife.

.

.

.

Fitz only saw red.

He grinned maliciously as the scumbag squirmed, his face becoming a sickening shade of purple as Fitz continued to press down on his throat. Choked gasps and wheezes met his ears as the man struggled to breathe, his squinty eyes now bulging and darting wildly.

"Not so tough anymore, are you?" He sneered, reaching into his back pocket to retrieve his switchblade. "You picked the _wrong_ girl to fuck with. You're dead. You're fucking _dead_!"

Clare. Clare. Clare. That's all Fitz could think about. Clare, crying and cowering under this _creep_. She would've been hurt or _worse_ if he hadn't shown up when he did. Fitz gripped the hilt of his knife tightly. This lowlife had to die. He'd be doing the world a favour by getting rid of him - one less piece of _trash_ roaming the streets, preying on girls like Clare.

_'Clare… for Clare…'_

He drew his hand back, about to plunge the blade into the man's gut when a shrill cry made Fitz freeze.

"STOP IT!"

_Clare…_

The man seized the opportunity to get away. He gave Fitz a hard shove, causing him to stumble back.

"Fucking psycho!" Was all he shouted, before running off and disappearing into a dark alley.

When he was gone, Fitz rounded on Clare, pinning her with a disbelieving stare.

"Why did you stop me?"

"Because!" She cried. "I didn't want you to end up in jail for murder!"

Reality came crashing down on him.

He'd almost killed someone. He _would've_ killed someone, if Clare hadn't intervened. He'd had every intention to.

Dropping his knife, Fitz clamped a hand over his mouth, trying not to hurl as his head spun. When he regained his composure, he turned away, not sure how to approach Clare.

Then he felt her arms encircle him, her tiny body pressed against his.

"Let's go inside."

All he could do was nod, and together, they made their way back to his apartment.

.

.

.

"You're not hurt, are you?"

Clare peered up from her plate of untouched spaghetti. She met Fitz's concerned stare from across the table and forced a smile.

"No, I'm… I'm fine." She tried to assure him, but even she wasn't convinced by her own words.

Neither was Fitz.

He frowned at her. "Don't lie."

Clare sighed, tearing her gaze away.

"I'm not… injured, if that's what you mean. _Physically_, I'll be okay, but…" she trailed off, glancing down at her lap.

_Psychologically_, she wasn't so sure. Her thoughts drifted to Darcy, and how being raped had practically _destroyed_ her. Darcy, all thin and frail, draped in a hospital gown, hooked up to tubes and machines after attempted suicide. Darcy, with bandages covering her wrists, and eyes that were dull and listless. An empty shell of the sister she knew.

"Clare?"

She started, snapping out of her trance-like state, and looked at Fitz once more. "Yes?"

He stared intently at her for a few seconds, making her incredibly nervous, before shaking his head. "Never mind. It's nothing."

Clare furrowed her brow.

"Well, obviously it's something." She said matter-of-factly. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," Fitz repeated, clearly agitated. "Can we talk about something else?"

Clare glared at him. His stubborn streak was almost as bad as Eli's. Both boys just didn't know when to let things go. Their petty grudges had done nothing but perpetuate their stupid feud for _weeks_, until it all came to a head on Vegas Night.

Rather than press Fitz for an answer, however, she changed the subject. "Like what?"

"I dunno," he said. "Anything."

"Very helpful." She remarked dryly. Pushing her plate away, she propped her elbows up on the table and clasped her hands together, trying to think. After a brief silence, she spoke. "Okay, here's one. Why 'Fitz'?"

Fitz raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Clare smiled shyly and quickly elaborated. "I _mean_… why do you go by 'Fitz' instead of your real name?"

"What kind of question is _that_?"

"A good one, judging by your reaction." Clare teased, sticking out her tongue in a playful manner. "So?"

Fitz didn't say anything immediately. He'd fallen silent, apparently deep in thought, but after a couple of minutes went by, he finally answered.

"Mark… was my dad's name." He confessed, refusing to meet her eyes. He kept his own lowered, his head bowed so that she couldn't read his expression. "He left… before I was born. Never met the guy. He was older than my mom, though - she was still in high school, and he was going to some community college or whatever." He clenched his hands to stop them from shaking. "But after she got pregnant, he took off and she never heard from him again."

Clare felt her chest tighten, and swallowed the lump in her throat, suddenly regretting having asked him such a thing. She wish she'd kept her mouth shut.

"Oh, Fitz…" she whispered, "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to -"

"It's cool." Fitz said, cutting her off. "I… I _wanted_ to tell you."

"Why?"

Fitz simply shrugged. "I dunno. I just did." He looked up, giving her a half-smile. "Besides… would you be scared if I went by 'Mark'?"

The tension in the room seemed to evaporate instantly.

Clare rolled her eyes. "I'm not scared of you either way."

"_Liar_."

She huffed, conceding defeat, and crossed her arms. "_Fine_. No, I wouldn't."

Fitz sat back and smirked. "And _there's_ reason number two."

Clare's mouth quirked upward ever-so-slightly.

"You're unbelievable."

He laughed. "So… do I get to ask _you_ something now?"

"If you want." She replied.

Fitz grinned wickedly.

"Is it true you brought a vibrator to school?"

Clare's stomach sunk, her eyes widening in horror as _that_ particular memory resurfaced in her mind. It had been one of the most _humiliating_ moments of her life, and somehow, Fitz had found out about it. Was it not bad enough that KC had been there to witness it? Or that Alli brought it up whenever she could, _just_ to make sure she would never forget? And her _mother_… good lord, her mother couldn't even _look_ at her when it'd happened, and the "sex talk" afterwards had been equally as awkward.

Hesitantly, she met Fitz's amused and expectant gaze, only to clamp a hand over her mouth to stifle her squeak.

Fitz knew. _Fitz_ knew. Did that mean that Eli and Adam had also heard about it? Did they share laughs at her expense during guy's night? Clare moaned, burying her face at the thought.

_No… no… no!_

"Where did you _hear_ that?" She cried.

Fitz's jaw hit the floor. "It _is_?"

Clare slumped forward, pressing her burning cheek against the table's cool surface, and nodded glumly.

"It's a long story…"

oOo

He tapped his foot impatiently, checking his phone and e-mail compulsively every few seconds before resuming where he'd left off. It was a Friday night, and Eli Goldsworthy found himself stuck at his grandmother's house with nothing but his laptop and music to keep him entertained. Cece and Bullfrog had lucked out at the last minute, when friends of theirs sold them two tickets to a concert that was five hours away, leaving _him_ bored out of his skull with nothing to do.

Clare had told him she would be online "later" but hadn't given him a specific time. It was nearly seven o'clock and the wait was driving him _crazy_ - she _had_ to be done her tutoring session soon, right?

"Elijah,"

The sound of his grandmother's thick, Yiddish accent drew his attention to the tiny, eighty-something-year-old woman hovering over the stove. "Elijah, come… help your Bubbeh with dinner."

"'kay." He murmured, smiling weakly at her.

He spared one last glance at his laptop - still no response from Clare - before standing up to do just that.

oOo

"Do you have to go?" Fitz asked, leaning against the threshold with his arms folded, watching as she put on her shoes.

"I have to," she said. "If I stay any longer, my parents will flip."

A lie. Her dad was working late that night, and her mom was probably passed out drunk on the couch again. In truth, she _wanted_ to spend more time with Fitz, and learn more about him, but she'd promised Eli that she would Skype him that night and "save him from boredom". She finished lacing her shoes and glanced up, but her heart sank when she saw the dejected look on Fitz's face. She bit her lip, racking her brain for something to say, only to blurt out the first thing that came to her head.

"Do you want to hang out tomorrow?"

Fitz stared at her in disbelief. "Seriously?"

She nodded vigorously. "Yeah! I mean… we could also go over those Trig notes since we didn't do that _today_, but… I mean… _after_ that…"

"Uhh… sure." He said, sounding surprised.

She smiled. "Okay! So… I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Clare didn't wait for an answer before turning around to unlock his door. She was about to head out into the hallway, but came to an abrupt halt when Fitz called out to her.

"Wait."

She spun around, almost losing her footing when she noticed their sudden close proximities. She could feel herself blushing furiously as Fitz towered over her, but he didn't seem to notice as he took her by the wrist and placed something cold in the palm of her hand. His eyes locked on hers for a split second as he closed her fingers around the object, making her breath hitch, but then he let go and took a step back, averting his gaze.

"Hang on to that. This neighbourhood's bad… but now you've got something to protect you, at least." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, see you tomorrow… angel-face."

Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn't think of a single, coherent response, and settled for nodding dumbly instead.

Clare waited until the door closed behind her to finally open her hand.

She inhaled sharply when she found herself staring down at Fitz's switchblade.

X

**Ugh, this was terrible. I'm sorry guys… this sounded way better in my head. It was going to be longer, but then I decided to add the other stuff to the **_**next**_** chapter… so yeah.**

** Can you tell I'm really bad at writing fight scenes? Totally not my forte, so I apologize.**

** Also… a very brief glimpse into Eli's perspective, and Grandma Goldsworthy! Okay, so when I first started writing this fic, way back in like… September, before we were introduced to Eli's parents and stuff… I was **_**convinced**_** he lived with grandparents. I don't know why, I just was. So I was slightly disappointed when this turned out not to be the case, because I could just picture this old woman calling Eli "Elijah" with like… a European accent and stuff. (Also, totally thought Eli was going to be Jewish. I mean… look at his last name! But yeah, that didn't happen either. Le sigh.)**

** That's all I can think of right now. I'm sorry if you guys hated this chapter.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and let me know what you think.**


	16. Losing Balance I

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update. I've had a lot on my mind. Anyway, thank you for the wonderful reviews, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Losing Balance I**_

X

By the time she got home, her mother was already asleep on the couch, once again surrounded by empty glasses and a bottle of champagne. Her father had been nowhere in sight, and so Clare could only assume that he'd had another late shift. She was quickly getting used to that, even though it meant only one thing — and that just wasn't something she was ready to face yet.

After shutting off the TV and throwing a blanket over her mom's slumbering form, she went straight to bed.

Or rather, tried to.

In reality, she spent the majority off the night tossing and turning, unable to stop thinking about Fitz, and what had nearly happened to her — what _would have_ happened to her, had he not arrived when he did.

She doubted _he_ thought so, but he was a hero. It sounded strange, even to her, and she had to remind herself that it was _Fitz_ she was referring to; the same Fitz who used to stuff freshmen into their lockers, and who blackmailed her into going to Vegas Night with him, and who had cornered her boyfriend with a knife — the same knife that was now resting in the bottom of her purse. He'd changed so much in the past few weeks, or perhaps he'd always been like this and it was just that no one had ever bothered looking past his "tough guy" exterior — herself included, until recently.

But now she was starting to realize that there was a lot more to Mark Fitzgerald than she had ever thought possible… and for some reason, that scared her.

.

.

.

The next day, Clare found herself standing in front of the mirror.

She had slept in until noon, something she rarely ever did. But then, she mused, it wasn't as if she'd been acting like _herself_ lately, what with keeping Eli in the dark about Fitz — and by extension, straining her friendship with Adam — or staying out well past her curfew because her mother was too drunk to notice and her father was never home. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to suppress the anger building inside of her. Once she regained her composure, she let her muscles relax and re-opened her eyes.

Clare pursed her lips together as she scrutinized her appearance. She had to meet Fitz in thirty minutes, and because she was in a hurry, she'd grabbed the first outfit she could find — a floral print skirt, one of Darcy's old low-cut blouses, and her denim jacket. She decided to wear her leggings, and a pair of pink flats that matched the headband in her hair — which was messier than usual, since she didn't have enough time to get her curls under control.

She hoped Fitz didn't think she looked like a slob.

Clare suddenly froze, blinking in confusion as she replayed her last thought in her head.

Since _when_ did she care if _Fitz_ thought she looked nice or not?

"Oh, Clare…" she muttered to herself, rubbing her temples. "What's happening to you?"

oOo

Where _was_ she?

Fitz sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning against a nearby streetlight as he waited impatiently for Clare's arrival.

He'd already watched three buses pass by, and not one of them had had Clare.

Did she forget?

No, Clare wasn't the kind of girl who easily forgot things.

Had something bad happened to her?

Fitz's stomach churned as his thoughts drifted to the night before, when she had been attacked. Her assailant's face was still fresh in his mind, and he had no doubt that if the man were to walk past him at that moment, he _would_ kill him — with his bare hands, if he had to. Guys like him didn't deserve to breathe. They were a waste of life.

He felt something vibrate against his leg, drawing his attention to his phone. Flipping it open, he read the latest message. It was from Bianca.

_**im bored… wanna chill at the ravine?  
- B**_

_**'cant.'**_ He typed back quickly.

It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to see Bianca. In fact, he'd originally planned to go to the ravine that weekend to talk to her, and maybe find out why she had been acting so on edge lately. But then Clare had asked him to hang out, and it would've been stupid to turn her down because really, what were the chances of it happening again?

Then there was the matter of her avoiding him that he wanted to ask her about…

His phone buzzed again and he checked the screen.

_**y the fuck not?  
- B**_

Fitz grimaced, knowing full well that Bianca was pissed, but before he could send a reply explaining himself, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

"Hey!"

Relief washed over him when he glanced over his shoulder and spotted Clare jogging up to him. He put his phone away and smirked.

"There you are," he said teasingly. "I almost thought you bailed on me."

She flushed, looking at the ground guiltily. "I'm sorry… I woke up late."

"It's cool," Fitz replied with a shrug. "So… what do you want to do?"

"Umm… I don't know. I didn't really think that far ahead."

He furrowed his brow. She was acting weird — on edge, like Bianca, like she was nervous or had something on her mind but didn't want to say it. He wondered if there was something going around that was only effecting the girls at Degrassi. Were they all experiencing their periods at once or something?

The thought both grossed him out and amused him, and he couldn't help but laugh. Clare tilted her head in confusion, and he covered his mouth to muffle it.

When he'd finally calmed down, he flashed her a grin.

"Come on. Let's go." He said, starting to walk in the opposite direction.

He had a destination in mind — he just wasn't sure if Clare would be up for it.

"Where are we going?" She asked, falling into step with him.

"The Ravine."

X

**REALLY short chapter. Sorry! I'll try to make the next one longer. It should definitely be more… interesting. Not nearly as boring as this one.**

** Hopefully you guys enjoyed, though.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think.**


	17. Losing Balance II

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. Or the song "Girls Just Want To Have Fun" which belongs to Cindy Lauper. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: You know, when I first started writing this, I didn't think it would be any longer than eighteen or so chapters. With the revised draft, however, I've realized it's going to be much longer, making this my longest fic yet.

Anyway, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Losing Balance II**_

X

It wasn't her first time going to the Ravine. She'd been there once before, with Alli, back when they were still freshmen. The experience hadn't been horrible or left her scarred for life or anything, but she certainly hadn't felt comfortable either, nor had she planned on ever returning. She remembered wanting to leave after a couple of hours, but Alli had chosen to stay behind, where she lost her virginity to Johnny DiMarco and ended up regretting it.

So _why_ exactly was she doing this? Why wasn't she turning and fleeing in the opposite direction, like she knew she was supposed to do? 

Clare didn't have a an answer, so she continued to follow Fitz against her better judgment.

Maybe it was because she trusted him, and knew he wouldn't deliberately put her in harm's way. Perhaps it was morbid curiosity getting the better of her. Or maybe, just maybe, she wanted to do something "bad" for a change.

They neared a familiar wooded area, blocked off by a broken chain link fence. Clare stayed close to Fitz as the two ventured on, and a few minutes later, they reached their destination.

It wasn't particularly crowded, but there were a handful of people present — luckily, no one that Clare recognized from school. Cars that looked like they had seen better days were parked some feet away, save for one or two which were missing tires, and rested on cinderblocks instead. There was a small group nearby, sitting around a bonfire, drinking and smoking and — in some cases — swapping spit.

Clare cringed, inching even closer to Fitz and almost grabbing onto his arm. She caught herself in time, but Fitz still noticed and glanced down at her with an amused grin.

"Not scared, are you?" He teased.

She shook her head. "Of course not! It's just…"

"Relax, Clare. There's nothing to worry about." He assured her, draping an arm over her shoulders.

She thought briefly of Eli and how he would react if he saw, and considered shrugging the arm off. She decided not to, however, and allowed Fitz to lead her towards the group by the fire.

"Fitzy-boy!" One guy called out upon spotting her companion. "Haven't seen your face around here lately! What've you been up to, man?"

"Oh, you know… staying out of trouble." Fitz replied nonchalantly, but while Clare knew there was some truth to his statement, the other boy apparently thought Fitz was joking and started to laugh.

When he'd calmed down, his bloodshot eyes fell on Clare, who squirmed uncomfortably under his lecherous gaze. Fitz must have sensed her distress, because his arm tightened around her and he threw a cold look in the other boy's direction.

"She's with me," he announced, much to Clare's surprise. "So don't try anything. Got it?"

She opened her mouth to correct him — to remind him that _technically_, she was "with" Eli — but then shut it, realizing that Fitz needed her to play along.

The boy instantly backed off, and resumed conversing with someone else. Fitz sighed loudly and made his way over to an empty picnic table, taking Clare with him.

"Sorry about that," he muttered once they sat down. "If I knew Greg was going to be here, I wouldn't have brought you with me. He's not dangerous or anything, but… he's kind of a creep."

"It's fine." She said softly, placing her hands in her lap.

Neither of them spoke for a while, and Fitz seized the opportunity to pull out a pack of cigarettes and light one — much to Clare's chagrin. She turned her head away so that she wouldn't accidentally breathe in any smoke, but she could still smell it. A low moan suddenly grabbed her attention, and she spared a quick glance at Fitz to see if he'd noticed, but his expression hadn't changed. Her eyes drifted to an old van nearby, scarcely hidden by a couple of bare trees. She squinted, zeroing in on the message written on the windshield.

_IF THE CAR IS ROCKIN'_

_ DON'T COME KNOCKIN'!_

Clare felt her cheeks heat up at the implication, but before she could look somewhere else, the van door slid open. A man who couldn't be any younger than twenty-five emerged, wearing a satisfied look as he adjusted the zipper on his pants.

He was followed by none other than Bianca DeSousa, scowling as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

In an instant, panic rose within her. Clare knew she couldn't risk letting the other girl see her, and stood abruptly — catching Fitz completely off guard in the process.

"Clare?" He said, startled.

"We have to go!" She hissed urgently. "I can't let her see me!"

"Let who -" Fitz began, but before he could finish, another voice interjected.

"So you ignore my text and then show up anyway? You ass!"

Clare froze, her heart hammering against her chest as Bianca stalked over to them, fixing a sharp glare on Fitz. Fitz didn't seem at all perturbed by it, and instead smirked at her.

"S'up, Bee?"

"Oh, don't 'S'up, Bee' me, you jerk! Why the hell didn't you answer my -" she broke off, her eyes falling on Clare who was trying — and failing — to hide her face in Fitz's shoulder. She shook her head in disbelief, tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. "No fucking way… _Saint Clare_? What? Did you get lost on the way to church or something?" Her gaze flickered back to Fitz, narrowing dangerously. "What the _fuck_ is she doing here, Fitz? What's going on?"

"Chill, Bee. She's my guest." Fitz answered coolly. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Not enough, _clearly_." Bianca ground out. She sighed loudly and flipped her hair. "I'm gonna get another beer. What do you want?"

"Surprise me." Fitz replied. "Just don't spike it with anything."

Clare was quick to catch the subtle jab and bit her lip, glancing down. She waited until she heard Bianca's footsteps disappear before reclaiming her spot on the bench. Fitz soon joined her as well.

"What was that about?" He asked curiously.

"N-nothing." Clare stammered nervously. "I just… I was hoping she wouldn't see me."

"Why? Do you guys have some beef going on that I wasn't aware of?"

Clare shook her head, and continued to stare at her hands. "No… it's just… if it gets back to Eli that I've been hanging out with you… then -"

"Wait, _what_?" Fitz cut her off, his brow furrowing as the pieces suddenly clicked. "Is _that_ why you've been avoiding me at school?"

Clare didn't say anything.

Fitz barked out a laugh and stood, running a hand through his spiked hair. "Wow… that's… that's just _fucking_ great!"

Clare winced at the harsh tone of his voice.

"Please don't be mad…" she whispered.

"How can I _not_ be, Clare? You're ashamed to be seen with me in public!" He yelled, not even attempting to mask how he was really feeling — hurt and betrayed. Clare's throat tightened, and she tried to speak, but Fitz went on. "You're afraid of what emo boy will say if he ever finds out that _you're_ the reason I was let back! After everything!"

"It's not that simple! Believe me, I've tried to tell him but the words just wouldn't come!" She took a deep breath. "Just… just give me a week or two. Then…"

"Then what?" Fitz sneered. "He throws a fit and you promise to never talk to me again so he won't leave you?"

Clare swallowed, knowing that — to some extent — what he said was true.

"Face it, Clare. Between me and him, you'll _always_ choose him."

She blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall, fisting the material of her skirt all the while.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, despising how pathetic she sounded. But she didn't know what else to say.

"Me too." Fitz muttered bitterly, turning around.

"Where are you going?" She asked when he began walking away.

He stopped only to glance over his shoulder, but refused to meet her gaze. "To think. I need to be alone right now. I'll come back for you though, so just… stay there and don't talk to anyone."

With that, he vanished into the woods.

Clare wiped her eyes, not caring if she made a mess of her makeup. She managed to recompose herself just as Bianca sauntered back over and plopped down next to her.

"_You_ look like you could use a drink." She said, sounding unusually giddy as she held out a bottle of clear liquid. "Want one?"

"What is it?" Clare asked hoarsely.

"Vodka." Bianca replied.

Clare pursed her lips, eyeing the alcoholic beverage with caution. Her conscience screamed at her to say no — to not succumb peer pressure, just like she'd always been taught. But there was a small part of her that wanted to give it a try, and she wondered if it still counted as "peer pressure" if she _wanted_ to. Bianca wasn't pressuring her, after all — simply offering her a drink. She wasn't being _forced_ to say yes, nor did she feel obligated to.

She nodded slowly. "S-sure."

Bianca smirked and twisted the cap off effortlessly before handing the bottle over.

"Enjoy."

oOo

His anger had already started to fade as soon as he walked away from her. Try as he might, Fitz just couldn't bring himself to stay mad at her, especially when she was on the verge of tears.

_Fuck_.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was turning into a sap — and for a girl who would never feel the same way. It was easier to deal with back when they'd never "officially" crossed paths, but now she had integrated herself into his life, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it except wallow in his own pity like some loser.

Fitz scowled, then took his remaining bitterness out on an innocent tree.

He'd long since lost track of time. When he calmed down, his knuckles were raw and bloody — he didn't care, though.

After a while, he decided to return to the Ravine.

oOo

Clare couldn't help but smile at her new companion.

She had never really spoken to Bianca before, but knew of her. She knew that she had a reputation for being a "loose" girl; she knew that Alli _despised_ her and blamed her for Drew's infidelity; and she knew that Bianca was the one who had outed Adam and made him miserable. In short, Bianca wasn't exactly a good person, and Clare knew that she was supposed to hate her… but as she watched the older girl in her element, she found herself envious.

Bianca was gorgeous and completely aware of it, and she wasn't above flaunting her assets. There was an air of confidence about her that Clare wished she had, and _unlike_ Clare, Bianca DeSousa was no pushover.

Taking another sip of her drink, she forced herself to swallow. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either and it left an unpleasant aftertaste in her mouth. Still, she liked the light-headedness. She felt warm and more relaxed — not nearly as tense as she usually was.

"You know something, Edwards?" Bianca's voice shattered Clare's reverie and she glanced over. The other girl grinned devilishly. "You're not bad!"

"Thanks?" Clare replied uncertainly.

"No, I mean it!" Bianca insisted. "I used to think you were just some uptight, goody two-shoes. Looks like I was wrong about you!" She hiccupped suddenly, then burst into a fit of giggles before regaining her composure and continuing, "Because… no goody two-shoes would ever step foot in this place… you know? Unless…" she trailed off, leaning in so that her face was dangerously close to Clare's. "… do you want to be corrupted, _Saint Clare_?"

Clare flushed as Bianca invaded her personal bubble and stared at her with piercing eyes. She could smell the liquor on the other girl's breath — it fogged her senses and made her dizzy.

_Did_ she want to be corrupted?

Was that why she'd come to the Ravine? Why she was drinking?

Before Clare could answer, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, alerting her of another presence. Tilting her head, she was surprised to see Fitz standing there, looking none too pleased.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" He snapped.

"Relax, Fitzy…" Bianca said dismissively, "We're just having a bit of fun. _'And girls, they wanna have fu-un! Oh girls, just wanna have…'_" Her Cindy Lauper impression dissolved into incoherent mumbling, and she took a long swig of her near-empty bottle.

Fitz ignored her, focusing his attention on Clare instead.

"Drinking, Clare? _Really_?"

"I just wanted to try it," she said. "That's all."

"Yeah, Fitzy!" Bianca cried, throwing her arms around Clare and resting her chin on her shoulder. "She's living in the moment! No harm in that! So quit being a freak and join us!"

"Knock it off, Bee." Fitz warned, before reaching down and grabbing Clare by the arm, hauling her to her feet and out of Bianca's embrace. "Come on, we're leaving."

"Hey! Don't steal my new best friend, you dick!" Bianca shouted after them as Fitz led Clare out of the Ravine.

oOo

"How much do you hate me right now?"

Fitz spared a glance at Clare, who kept her eyes downcast. They'd been walking in silence for half an hour, and he could tell that the effects of the alcohol were starting to wear off. He sighed and stared ahead once more.

"I don't hate you, Clare." He said honestly. "I'm fucking pissed, but I don't hate you."

He felt her flinch next to him, but she didn't berate him for swearing.

"I'm sorry," was all she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to… make you feel like I was ashamed of you. I'm _not_. You have to understand that. I…" she bit her lip, hesitantly peering up at him. "I care about you. You're important to me."

Fitz's brows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected that, although he'd be lying if he said he wasn't ecstatic to find out that she cared about him — that he wasn't just some charity case.

They neared the bus stop by his apartment, and in the distance Fitz could see the bus coming down the street. They'd made it just in time, it seemed, but he was disappointed that he couldn't spend more time with her. The day hadn't exactly gone as planned.

"Well…" Clare shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, just as the bus was pulling up to the curb. "I guess this is goodbye. See you later, Fitz." Without warning, she pressed her lips to his cheek, leaving him stunned. Then she drew back, and was about to board the bus when Fitz caught her wrist, bringing her to an abrupt halt.

"Mark." He blurted out.

Clare blinked in confusion. "What?"

"I want you to call me 'Mark' from now on." He told her, his eyes locking on hers.

A noticeable blush crept across her cheeks, and she averted her gaze. "Really? You'd let me?"

"_Only_ you." He stressed.

She smiled warmly. "I can do that."

Then she was gone.

.

.

.

When Fitz walked into his home, he was still floating on cloud nine from the feel of Clare's soft lips against his skin.

He was in no way prepared for the sight that met him.

There, sitting at the kitchen table, eating dinner with his mother and acting like he hadn't been gone for weeks, was Phil.

His step-dad was back.

X

**… THE END.**

** I kid, I kid. This fic isn't even close to being over yet. It's at the halfway point. Like I said, though… originally this was only going to be about eighteen chapters, but… things change. This fic has taken a turn in an interesting direction, to say the least.**

** I have mixed feelings about this chapter. I'm fine up until the last scene or two. I just don't like how those turned out, but my brain kind of died on me.**

** But I had been DYING to write a scene with Bianca and Clare. I just didn't think it would be during this fic.  
**

** I hope you liked it.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	18. Under Pressure

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Things take a turn for the more… mature, in this chapter, and for a number of reasons. I'm not sure if I should bump the rating or not.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Under Pressure**_

X

Class was in session, but rather than sitting through Mr. Perino's lesson, Clare found herself in the janitor's closet, giggling as her companion pinned her to the door and kissed her neck. It was reckless and stupid, and she knew that they'd be in huge trouble if they were caught, but at that moment, she simply didn't care. All that mattered was _him_.

"See?" He nipped playfully at her skin. "Way more fun than social studies, right?"

Clare hummed in agreement, and sighed contentedly when his hands began to wander, touching her in places no man had ever touched.

"Clare," he whispered, lifting her leg and hooking it around his waist. She shuddered as her skirt rose, exposing her thighs to the cool air. "I want you to scream my name."

She moaned loudly when he pressed his obvious arousal against her center. Planting her hand on the wall behind her, she begged him to keep going and he gladly obliged, jerking his hips forward again and again. It wasn't long before she started to grind back, overcome with pleasure as she tried to ease the burning sensation between her thighs. Grunts and high gasps filled the cramped space as they continued to meet each other's thrusts.

"_Oh_!" She was close. So, _so_ close.

"That's — right," he panted into her ear, "Let me hear you, Clare! Let the whole fucking school hear!"

Then he bit down on the juncture of her neck, and Clare lost it completely.

"_MARK_!"

.

.

.

Clare's eyes flew open and she sat up abruptly, gasping for breath.

She was drenched in cold sweat. Her pajamas clung to her skin uncomfortably, and her whole body throbbed. Still disoriented, she staggered out of bed and into the washroom across the hall, retching as soon as she reached the toilet. When she was done, she put the cover down and rested her burning cheek against the cold porcelain, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to erase the vivid dream she'd just had from her memory.

No such luck.

She could still feel, hear — hell, even _taste_ — him.

It was like Declan all over again, only worse.

Disgust filled her to the brim.

She was with Eli — her wonderful, loving, understanding boyfriend — and yet she was fantasizing about his worst enemy? Her stomach twisted and she could feel the bile rising in her throat but she forced it down. She knew with every fibre of her being that she loved Eli. Fitz was just her friend, so _why_ was she dreaming about _him_ instead? What was _wrong_ with her?

Tears stung her eyes and a choked sob left her lips as she collapsed on the tiled floor, tangling her fingers through her hair. Curling into a ball, Clare covered her mouth and screamed.

oOo

Five or so hours later, Clare was at school, organizing her locker. In recent days — maybe even weeks, she wasn't sure — it had become uncharacteristically… messy. Not _terribly_ so, by any stretch of the imagination, but enough to bother _her_. So, with the spare fifteen minutes that remained before she had to get to homeroom, she decided to correct the problem. She stacked her books in alphabetical order, from thickest to thinnest, and tossed out the crumpled papers that littered the bottom.

Once satisfied, she took a sip of her coffee, glad that she'd decided to stop by the Dot on her way to school. She had been up since three, too afraid to go back to sleep after the dream she'd had, and the caffeine was the only thing keeping her awake.

So consumed by her own thoughts, Clare didn't even hear her boyfriend approaching until a pair of hands grasped her shoulders. She let out a shriek and spun around to see Eli standing there, looking both amused and worried.

"_Someone's_ jumpy today." He noted, leaning against the locker next to hers with his arms folded. "Missed you this weekend… thought we were gonna Skype."

Clare's eyes widened.

How could she have forgotten? She _had_ promised Eli that she was going to "save him" from his boredom while he was visiting his grandmother, but she never did. Instead, her weekend was spent with Fitz and Bianca, drinking and almost getting raped.

"I'm so sorry!" She gasped. "I completely forgot!" She bit her lip and glanced down. "You must think I'm a horrible girlfriend…"

Eli frowned.

"Hey, it's… it's fine. I'm not mad. I just… missed you." He said, stepping closer and lifting her chin so that he could see her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Clare lied. "I've just… had a lot on my mind lately."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head. "Not really."

Eli's shoulders fell, and so did his expression. She knew that _he_ knew that she was keeping something from him, and what was more, was that she knew he was hurt by it, and that — along with the guilt that was already eating away at her — made her do what she did next. Bringing a hand to his neck, she leaned up so that her lips brushed against his ear, and felt him shudder against her.

"It's just…" she continued, toying with the collar of his polo with her other hand, "I'd much rather talk about… how I'm going to make it up to you for this weekend."

His adam's apple bobbed.

"Yeah?" He croaked. "What did you have in mind?"

"We skip," she whispered huskily. "We go to my house and have a bit of… _fun_. What do you say?"

Much to her surprise, Eli pushed her away gently, his brow furrowed.

"Clare… that's _really_ risky."

She pouted. "But _Eli_… my parents aren't home."

"I'm not just talking about your parents," said Eli. "If Mister Simpson catches us -"

Clare scoffed.

"Since when do _you_ care about what Mister Simpson says?" She asked irritably, before wrapping her arms around his middle. "Come on, Eli… just this once, I want to live dangerously. _With you_. Please?"

She stared at him with puppy dog eyes, and could see the conflict etched across his face. It almost made her want to drop the charade altogether — but she couldn't! She had to — but then he gave a defeated nod.

"How can I say no to you? Lead the way…"

Clare beamed, lacing her fingers through his as the two of them made their way out of the building, just as the bell rang.

oOo

Fitz sighed when he spotted Bianca at the other end of the hall and began to walk towards her. She looked pissed and Fitz knew that she probably wouldn't want to talk to him after what had happened that Saturday at the Ravine, but he was on a mission. So, taking a deep breath, he ventured over and tapped her on the shoulder. She glanced up from her phone, only to scowl when she saw him.

"What do _you_ want?"

"To apologize." He said honestly.

Bianca blinked, clearly taken aback by his answer. Then she frowned once more.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" She snapped. "You broken or something? Or…" she planted a hand on her hip, "or has Edwards been rubbing off on you? 'Cause the Fitz _I_ know would never apologize. He'd buy me a fucking beer and then we'd be cool."

"Shut up," Fitz muttered. "I need you to do me a favour, Bee."

Bianca rolled her eyes. "_That_ makes more sense. What do you want?"

"Don't tell anyone that you saw Clare at the Ravine." He said, "Or that she's been hanging out with me. _No one_, Bee. Not even Owen."

Bianca stared hard at him before scoffing.

"You've gone soft, you know that?"

"_Bee_."

"Okay, okay! I won't say anything! Now get off my back!" She snarled. "I've got a killer hangover and _you're_ not making it any better."

Fitz nodded, relief washing over him.

"Thanks, Bee."

That was one less thing he had to worry about. There was still the matter of Phil being back — not that he'd ever "officially" left or anything, but the asshole spent so much time at the bar that he might as well have just lived _there_ instead — but he'd deal with that later.

oOo

The drive to her house was painfully slow, and Eli spent most of the ride trying to convince her that they should return to school. It annoyed her to no end that _he_, of _all_ people, wanted her to do the "responsible" thing. Where was the boy she'd fallen for, with all his sarcasm and mischief, who told her she needed to let loose sometimes? Didn't he understand that she needed to fix everything?

By the time they walked into her room, she could barely control herself. She simply kicked the door closed and shoved him onto her bed, before climbing on top of him and kissing him deeply.

To say that Eli was surprised would be the understatement of the year. Clare rarely initiated their kisses, nor had she ever been so aggressive before. He seemed to almost _resist_ at first, but eventually kissed her back with just as much fervor.

"Clare," he gasped when she parted for air and found his neck. "Not that I'm — _complaining_ or anything but… _ahh_… what's gotten — into you?"

"I just missed you," Clare breathed, nipping at his throat and delighting in the guttural moan it brought out. "Besides… I've been thinking…"

"Thinking?" Eli repeated. "About what?"

"About…" she faltered very briefly, "… about maybe… taking us to the next level…"

Eli's eyes shot open, and he stared at her in disbelief.

"Clare, I don't think…"

"Stop thinking, _please_, and listen to me!" She begged, pushing him back down when he attempted to sit up. "Contrary to what _you_ might think, _I_ have urges too! And I want…" she licked her lips, averting her gaze as a blush crept to her cheeks. "… I want to explore them."

Eli quirked a brow.

"I don't want to… give myself to you just yet," Clare went on. "But… maybe we can… do other things…"

"What exactly do you have in mind?" Eli asked slowly.

Clare bit her lip nervously, before taking one of his hands and guiding it up her skirt.

"There," she said shakily. "I want you… to touch me _there_, Eli."

Still visibly stunned by her request, Eli could only nod and obey. Small moans left her lips as he began to stroke her through her panties, which — much to her immense embarrassment — were already damp. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and rocked against Eli's talented — so, _so_ talented — fingers in an attempt to create more friction and bring herself closer to the edge. She could feel his own arousal, and tried not to think of her dream or Fitz and instead, focus on the boy beneath her. Eli's breath hitched with every jerk of her hips, and she could feel a familiar pressure building inside of her.

She cried out when he suddenly removed his hand, and was about to protest when he flipped her over so that _she_ was lying on her back and he hovering above her.

"E-Eli…?" She whimpered. "What..."

"I have a better idea," he growled, licking the shell of her ear before sliding down her body and pushing her skirt up.

"Eli?" She called again, only to inhale sharply when she felt him tug her panties to her ankles and spread her legs.

Then… there was ecstasy.

X

**Alright, so basically… the last chapter was just the beginning of Clare's descent into… reckless behaviour, for lack of a better term.**

** Next chapter is definitely going to be more Fitz-centric.**

** Anyway, it's time for me to go to bed. I have school tomorrow… ugh.**

** Hope you enjoyed.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	19. Nightmare

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: This is a more… Fitz-centric chapter. Some Eclare. Mostly Fitz, though. Perhaps a bit of Bianca, although I might save that for next time.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Nightmare**_

X

He sat in silence, staring at the desk in front of him but never once uttering a sound. He was lost in his own thoughts, scarcely aware of his surroundings save for the humming of the nearby hard drive and the hunger pains in his stomach. It was lunch time — he was _supposed_ to be having lunch, but instead he was stuck in Ms. Sauvé's office for a mandatory counselling session.

"Mark?"

Fitz glanced up and saw Ms. Sauvé staring at him expectantly. He didn't even have the patience to correct her — he just wanted to leave and find Bianca or Owen, and maybe swipe a smoke off one of them.

"Mark," she said again, "you've been in here for ten minutes and haven't said a word."

He shrugged. "Got nothing to talk about."

That was a lie, and she knew it as well as he did. In truth, he had a lot on his mind, but the last thing he wanted to do was _share_ those personal thoughts with a counsellor who would probably judge him. Or worse, risk anyone overhearing.

"How have you been… adjusting since coming back?" Sauvé asked in an attempt to get a discussion going. "Is everything okay?"

If by _okay_ she meant being ostracized by the whole school, then yes. Everything was just fucking peachy.

"What about your friends? Or your family?" When he remained mute, Sauvé let out a sigh, clasping her hands together and leaning forward. "Mark, nothing you tell me will leave this room. Everything you say here is between you and myself — it's entirely confidential."

Fitz rolled his eyes.

There was a knock at the door, and for a split second, Fitz thought he'd been saved by another appointment. It turned out to be Simpson instead.

"Ah, sorry to interrupt, but… can I borrow Mister Fitzgerald for a minute?"

Ms. Sauvé looked ready to protest, but kept her mouth shut. She dismissed Fitz, promising to reschedule another session soon. Without even so much as a "goodbye" Fitz stood up and followed Mr. Simpson into the latter's own office. It wasn't until the door closed behind him that Fitz started to worry.

Had Simpson found out about what had happened over the weekend? That he'd pulled a knife on a stranger for attacking Clare? Or that he'd been to the Ravine?

Panic rose within him, but Fitz managed to keep a calm, if not completely indifferent, exterior. He sat down across from Simpson, waiting for the other to speak.

At last, he did.

"First of all, you're not in trouble." Relief washed over Fitz and he relaxed a little. "To be honest, this isn't even about you. I called you in here to talk about Clare."

Fitz furrowed his brows in confusion. "Clare? Why?"

"She didn't show up to homeroom this morning." Simpson answered, his face serious. "In fact, she's been absent all day." He gave Fitz a stern look, and there was something about it that made the teen's blood boil. Was Simpson actually implying that _he_ was the reason that Clare wasn't at school? Fitz frowned, about to snap at the older man when his anger gave way to worry.

Clare was a 'model student' — she took her education seriously. She wasn't the type of girl to skip, was she?

Did something happen to her?

"You're probably wondering why I'm telling you this." Simpson went on, as if reading his mind. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I just wanted to know if you've noticed any… changes in Clare's behaviour lately. Has she seemed strange to you?"

Fitz thought back to Saturday, when he'd stumbled across her drinking with Bianca.

_"I just wanted to try it. That's all."_

That wasn't like Clare…

Then again, _did_ he know her?

Fitz glanced off to the side. For a moment, he considered telling Simpson about how she'd been attacked, but that meant he'd also have to come clean about pulling a knife on the guy. He decided against it, his gaze flickering back to Simpson.

"No," he said simply. "But I mean… I don't think I really know her enough to… say anything. If she has, her friends would probably know more than _me_."

"They'll be informed shortly."

Then what? An intervention?

"Maybe she's just sick?" Fitz offered with a shrug. "When I saw her Friday, she told me she wasn't feeling too hot."

A lie… sort of. He had no doubt that her near-rape experience had left her shaken up, at the very least.

"Maybe," said Simpson. "But I think I would've gotten a call from her parents, if that were the case."

Damn.

Before Simpson could interrogate him any longer, the bell rang. Fitz slowly rose to his feet.

"I don't know what else to tell you, but… I have to get to class, so…"

Simpson nodded and allowed him to leave.

Fitz made it to shop class before anyone else, and took his place at the back while the rest of his peers piled inside. A few minutes later, the second bell sounded, and as everyone around him got situated, Fitz scanned the room. Then his eyes fell on an empty table nearby — luckily, not too close — and narrowed.

oOo

She panted softly as she lay there, basking in the afterglow of sheer bliss. Her whole body quivered, every sensation still fresh, lingering in her mind and on her skin.

The combination of Eli's tongue and fingers was nothing short of incredible, she decided, and after Eli had gone down on her, she'd managed to turn the tables and take charge. She'd been determined to make him feel just as good, but she had no prior experience, and what knowledge she _did_ have came from the magazines that she and Alli read during their slumber parties. She stroked him gently, uncertainly, watching his face for any indication that she was doing it right, and grew confident when his head fell back, his lips parting under her ministrations as he chanted her name before releasing in her hand.

She had been both fascinated and startled, but had little time to react when Eli came down from his high, lust clouding his gaze as he pinned her and brought her over the edge two more times. It was only when she couldn't take it anymore that he withdrew his fingers, kissing her forehead and murmuring sweet nothings into her ear. Then he went to the bathroom to "clean up" — leaving her to reminisce about what had just happened.

"You really did a number on my neck…"

Clare's eyes fluttered open just as Eli re-entered her room and sat down on the edge of her bed. He removed his hand from his neck, revealing the hickeys — or "love bites" — that she'd left there. She flushed, averting her eyes.

"Sorry… I guess I got a bit… carried away…"

Eli laughed. "A bit? I think I'm going to need to wear a scarf for the next week. No amount of makeup is going to hide this." Noticing her blush, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. "Don't be embarrassed. Besides… you've got some as well." He wriggled his brows suggestively and Clare fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. He cleared his throat, changing the subject. "So… are you going to tell me what _that_ was about?"

"What do you mean?" She asked. "Didn't you like it?"

"Oh, trust me, I liked it." He assured her. "What I mean is… what happened now was a huge leap from just… making out in the back of Morty."

"I know…" Clare told him. "But… lately, I've just… wanted to take things to the next level, you know?" She quickly elaborated. "Not… _sex_… I won't do that until I'm married… but… like what we did today…"

"Why didn't you tell me? I could've… well… we could've eased into it…"

Clare shrugged. "I guess… but today, I just… couldn't control myself. I wanted… _needed_ to show you… how much I care about you."

Eli's eyebrows rose. "You missed me that much, eh?"

"Yeah," she smiled shyly, and he smirked at her.

"Not enough to remember to Skype me, though?" He teased, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I told you, I had a lot on my mind." She reminded him.

"Clare, relax. I was kidding." He said, grinning lopsidedly — but there was a hint of worry in his eyes that made Clare's heart ache with guilt.

She sighed, letting her head drop to his shoulder and lacing her fingers with his.

"You're too good to me, Eli. Sometimes I think I don't deserve you," she mumbled, staring down at their hands. "Or that eventually you're going to want someone else — someone who's prettier than me… and smarter… and more talented…" she thought of Jenna then, and how easily K.C had been lured away like a sailor to a siren.

"Hey," Eli chastised gently, "_I'll_ be the judge of that." He caressed her thumb with his own. "And, if anything, it's _me_ who doesn't deserve _you_. You're amazing, Clare, and there's no one else I'd…" he trailed off, and Clare didn't need to see his face to know exactly why.

_Second best. Always second best. Second best to Darcy, second best to Jenna, second best to Julia…_

"… there's no one else I'd rather be with." Eli finished quietly, his voice slightly hoarse.

_Liar!_

Tears gathered in Clare's eyes, but she held them back, refusing to let them fall.

"I'm a horrible person," she choked out.

Eli went rigid for a second, before shifting so that he could look down at her. She kept her eyes lowered, and heard him sigh. With his free hand, he placed his thumb and forefinger under her chin and tilted her head so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

"No," he said firmly, "you're not. Why would you think that?"

"Because I am!" She all but cried.

Eli's brows drew together. "Clare, what's wrong? Whatever it is… you can tell me…"

Clare felt her throat tighten. She had to tell him — about tutoring Fitz, about lying to him, about the dream she'd had, about the Ravine and what she'd _really_ been up to over the weekend… about everything. He had a right to know. He'd been honest with her about his past, confiding in her because he _trusted_ her. She _had_ to tell him.

It was now or never.

"Eli…" she started, staring him straight in the eye. "It's about Fi -"

"CLARE, ARE YOU HOME?"

Clare froze at the sound of her father's voice.

What was he doing home so early?

With little time to think, she scrambled away from Eli, rushing over to the window and sliding it open.

"You need to leave, _now_!" She hissed. "If my dad catches you here, I'll be grounded until I'm thirty!"

Eli nodded, quickly pulling on his jacket and adjusting his belt buckle before joining her by the window.

"We'll talk later, okay?" She murmured, kissing his cheek as he carefully climbed over the ledge. Taking a step back, she waited until he reached the ground before making a mad dash to her bed.

She'd just gotten settled when her bedroom door creaked open.

Clare sat up, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to make it seem like she was drowsy.

"Daddy? Is that you?" She asked weakly. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I got a call from your principal. He said you weren't at school today." Her father answered with a frown.

"I wasn't feeling well…" Clare lied, hoping he wouldn't catch her, "and you and mom weren't here in the morning… so I just…"

She broke off as her father walked over and placed a hand on her forehead.

"You _are_ a little warm… I hope you're not coming down with anything serious…" He said. His expression softened some as he stared down at his youngest daughter. "Just get some sleep for now. Okay, Clare-bear? I'll call your principal and explain everything."

"Thank you, Daddy…"

oOo

He knew it was going to be a long night when he walked through the door and spotted Phil in the living room, lounging on his old recliner — _his_. Not theirs. Phil didn't like it when anyone else touched _his_ shit — with a can of beer in hand, practically glued to the TV. His mother was nowhere in sight, which meant she was at work or out grocery shopping. Either way, she wasn't _there_, and Phil was, and that left an unsettling feeling in the pit of Fitz's stomach.

Still, he did his best to ignore his step-dad. The man was far too absorbed in the game to really pay any attention to him, and that was fine. The last thing Fitz wanted was to talk to him.

Unfortunately, Phil was obnoxiously loud, shouting and jeering and swearing at the TV screen so often that it made it impossible for Fitz to concentrate on his homework.

Finally, he'd had enough, slamming his fists down on the kitchen table and standing up so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor.

"Hey!" He snapped, glaring daggers at Phil. "Mind turning that down? I'm trying to fucking study!"

"And _I'm_ trying to watch the game!" Phil snarled. "Now be useful for once and get me a damn beer."

"Get it your fucking self." Fitz muttered, but it was loud enough to reach Phil's ears.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT?" The older man thundered, and before Fitz even knew what was happening, Phil was in front of him, grabbing the collar of his shirt.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't _breathe_. Instinctively, Fitz started to panic, trying to pry Phil's large hand off, but the latter only tightened his grip, a sadistic grin spreading across his face. He struggled relentlessly, his vision becoming blurry as Phil continued to cut off his oxygen supply before finally releasing him altogether. Fitz dropped to his knees, gasping for air and holding his neck.

Phil scoffed.

"That's what I thought." He sneered, and then knelt down to Fitz's level. "Still can't believe they let a retard like you back in school. What've you got to offer? _Huh_? S'not like you're goin' anywhere in life. You're _nothing_."

With that, he stood up once more. Fitz waited for Phil to return to the living room before rising to his feet as well, gathering his things and darting straight to his room. He locked the door behind him and threw everything onto his bed, rubbing his sore throat and pacing frantically around the room, unsure of what to do. Tears stung his eyes, but he didn't cry.

_Boys don't cry_.

It was an unwritten rule that Phil had made _damn sure_ to grill into his head a _long_ time ago.

So instead, Fitz reached under his pillow to retrieve his lighter.

Flipping it on, he sat there and watched the tiny flame dance.

X

**… and that's the end of chapter 19.**

** Like it? Hate it?**

** Please REVIEW and tell me what you think!**


	20. Decisions, Decisions

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay. I had a midterm last week, so I was busy catching up with some readings and whatnot. Anyway, here's the next chapter.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Decisions, Decisions**_

X

He sat alone at the top of the bleachers, smoking a cigarette as he stared out at the vacant football field. It was noon and most of the school was inside, eating their lunch where it was warm, but since he wasn't exactly _welcome_ in the cafeteria, Fitz decided to avoid it. In truth, he didn't give a shit about what everyone thought of him, but he wasn't one to back down when some asshole picked a fight, and he couldn't risk getting expelled.

Taking one last drag, he threw the butt away and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His mind drifted back to the day before and he lifted a hand to his neck, which was still sore from when Phil had grabbed him. He'd spent the majority of the night wide awake, barricaded in his room, waiting for his mom to come home while trying to distract himself and pretend that Phil _wasn't_ there, just outside the door and down the hall.

He hated being scared. He hated feeling like he was seven again — vulnerable and weak, and unable to fight back.

The clunking of heavy shoes snapped Fitz out of his stupor, and he glanced up just as Owen reached him. He was significantly less intimidating in a polo and khaki pants.

"S'up, Fitzy?" He greeted, nudging his shoulder and prompting Fitz to roll his eyes.

"Don't call me that."

Owen snorted and held his hands up in defense. "Chill, man. Jeez, what's got your panties in a bunch?" He plopped down next to him before continuing, "So there's a party at the Ravine tonight. You game? We can scout out all the chicks and get wasted. It'll be fun. I haven't gotten laid in weeks, and _you_ look like you could use a good fuck."

Fitz grimaced.

"Sounds great, but… I can't." He said, watching Owen's lecherous grin fall.

The football player frowned, clearly surprised by his answer, and Fitz didn't blame him. In all the years they'd known each other, Fitz had never turned down an opportunity to hang at the Ravine, and why would he? Everything he wanted was there — drugs, booze, and sluts who'd give him head in an instant. It was like a fucked up paradise, and everyone there was just as fucked up as he was. They accepted him. It was where he _belonged_.

At least, that's what he used to believe.

"Why not?" 

Fitz shrugged. "Homework."

Sort of. In actuality, he had a tutoring session with Clare, but he didn't want to sound _too_ lame.

"Homework," Owen echoed dryly. "You're not coming 'cause of _homework_?"

"Gotta keep up my grades." Fitz told him, keeping his tone nonchalant. "Why else do you think they let me back? The school board frowns upon bringing weapons to dances, you know?" He added with a smirk. "Besides, I wanna graduate at some point."

Owen shook his head and got up.

"Whatever, man. Your loss. Have fun doing _homework_ tonight." He said, before making his way down the bleachers and out of sight.

oOo

He lingered by his locker a few minutes before his next class started, hurriedly skimming through a copy of _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ — something he hadn't been able to do the previous night.

When the first bell rang, Fitz grabbed his binder and headed straight for English, but just as he rounded the corner, a group of five guys came up behind him. What happened next was a blur, and Fitz was suddenly on his hands and knees, his books scattered around him. He watched his assailants walk on, laughing hysterically, and clenched his fists angrily. If Vegas Night hadn't happened, forever branding him as "the psycho who brought a knife to school" and "the reason for the crackdown" — no one would have the balls to try his patience. They would still be cowering in fear.

A flowery scent, like perfume, tickled his nose and alerted him of another presence. Then Clare was crouching down in front of him, helping him retrieve his belongings.

He raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Won't your _boyfriend_ get mad?"

"He knows I don't approve of bullying," she said, handing him his notebook. "Of _any_ kind. Not even to you."

"Ouch," he muttered.

Clare smiled apologetically, causing his stomach to do cartwheels.

"So… have you told him yet?" Fitz asked, keeping his voice low so as to not draw in any unwanted attention.

The last thing he needed was someone like Chantay Black overhearing their conversation and making a huge scandal about it on her blog.

Clare sighed. "I tried to… but then my dad interrupted."

"Oh." Fitz glanced away as he rose to his feet, Clare following his lead as she held her own books close to her chest. "Well… I guess I'll see you after school?"

Clare hesitated.

"Today?" She asked, biting her lip.

Fitz nodded slowly, furrowing his brow. "Yeah… it's Tuesday, remember?"

"… I can't." She said.

"Why not?" He asked.

"Because I'm hanging out with Eli after school." She confessed, looking guilty.

Of course.

Eli.

It was all about _Eli_.

Eli, Eli, Eli!

It made him sick, seeing Clare with that smartass freak; picturing her smiling _lovingly_ at him, _kissing_ him, whispering his name in the dead of night…

"Mark?" Her voice drew him back to reality. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he grit out.

"Listen, I'm sorry… but it's just for today. I promise. Why don't we reschedule for tomorrow? How does three-thirty at the Steakhouse sound?"

"Sure, whatever." Fitz answered monotonously.

"Thanks," Clare smiled shyly. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

With that, she spun around and disappeared out of sight. Fitz waited until the hallway was completely deserted before taking out his cell and calling Owen, who he knew had spare.

"Hey, man, it's me. I've been thinking and you know what? Fuck homework. I'll see you at the party."

X

**Short chapter, I know. Next one's probably gonna have two parts, but I'll try to make them longer AND have at least one of them up sometime this week. I'm on a break, so hopefully I'll have time to write.**

** Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	21. Relapse I

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Very quick update. Fitz… is a bit of an asshole in this chapter.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Relapse I**_

X

Unlike over the weekend when he'd come with Clare, the Ravine was crowded —

more lively. There were still people chilling around the fire, smoking and drinking, but someone had left their truck on and the radio blasting. People danced, grinding against one another to the beat, while others were content with simply blazing up.

In the meantime, Fitz sat in a lawn chair by the bonfire, drinking a beer and listening to Owen talk about the Super Bowl and make the occasional whistle when he spotted an attractive girl. He'd seen Bianca around — there was no way she'd ever miss a party — but had no idea where she'd gone, or with who. It wasn't that he was worried about her; Bianca was perfectly capable of defending herself, if she needed to, and _hated_ it when he or Owen, or any other guy for that matter, fought her battles _for_ her. So, no, he wasn't worried about her safety or anything, but he _did_ need to talk to her at some point. Preferably when she was drunk. It was easier to get things out of her that way. She was nicer when she had enough alcohol in her system, and less likely to claw his eyes out or bust his lip open.

"What about her?" Fitz glared at Owen when the larger teen elbowed him in the ribs for not paying attention to him, then followed his gaze to a girl standing nearby.

She was tall and thin, and had bleach blonde hair that fell down her back. She wore a midriff shirt that revealed a bellybutton piercing, and tight jeans that showed her thong whenever she bent down. She was hot, he'd give her that, but the fake tan and fake eyelashes and bony figure was a huge turn off. Cringing, he shook his head.

"Not my type." He said.

"Suit yourself." Owen shrugged, standing up and sauntering over to the girl.

Fitz rolled his eyes as he watched Owen work his magic. At first, the girl just ignored him, acting like a stuck up bitch — until Owen cracked a joke. It was probably stupid, but made her laugh, and it wasn't long before she fell for his "charm" and the two disappeared into the woods together.

"Anyone sitting here?"

Fitz looked up, and immediately did a double take, but quickly regained his composure. He eyed the girl currently speaking to him. She was definitely new to the Ravine — he'd never seen her before, and she seemed nervous, like she wasn't sure _why_ she was there at all. He could only assume that she'd been dragged there by one of her friends. Despite being clearly out of her element, there was a hint of lust in her eyes that he couldn't help but notice. She wanted him. There were other empty seats, and yet she'd approached _him_, which only meant one thing.

"Fitz." He said, holding out his hand.

The girl smiled and grasped his hand with her own. "Erin."

He smirked.

"C'mon, I'll show you around…"

.

.

.

An hour later, Fitz found himself in a van with the girl whose name he'd already forgotten, beneath him. It was dark outside, and if he squint hard enough, he could pretend that it was _Clare_ writhing under him, her breasts spilling out of her corset top and skirt bunched around her waist as he plunged in and out of her heated core.

Their bodies were similar, but Erin's hair was darker and slightly longer, and her makeup was caked on. She was dressed like a two dollar hooker, and her eyes weren't the right size or the right shade of blue. She couldn't be any older than fourteen, but Fitz fucked her anyway, hard and fast.

He drowned in his own mind, imagining what Clare would look like in the throes of passion. He pictured how her cheeks would flush and back would arch; how her ankles would lock behind him and her swollen lips would part, her sweet moans echoing all around them. Then he'd hit the spot that would make her lose control and she'd beg for _moremoremore_ until she finally reached her peak, screaming his name in ecstasy.

The thought was enough to send Fitz over the edge and he came with a cry, collapsing on top of Erin who'd become noticeably still. When he'd regained his strength, he sat up and slid out of her, peeling off the condom and tossing it. Zipping up his jeans, he retrieved his pack of cigarettes and lit one.

There was nothing like a post-romp smoke.

He heard Erin start to move, adjusting her clothes. After a moment, she spoke.

"Erin."

Fitz glanced over his shoulder. "What?"

Erin narrowed her eyes.

"It's _Erin_. My name is _Erin_." She said.

Fitz blinked.

"What's your point?" He asked, growing annoyed.

"You called me _Clare_!" Erin hissed.

Had he? He didn't even notice, but Erin certainly had, and she was pissed. Rather than apologize or make up some kind of excuse, however, Fitz merely shrugged.

"So?"

"So?" Erin repeated, outraged. "I thought you liked me! Why would you have sex with me if you didn't?"

Fitz couldn't help but snort.

"Just because we fucked doesn't mean I like you." He said.

Tears welled up in Erin's eyes and she shook her head furiously. "Take that back!"

"Take _what_ back? The _truth_?" Fitz sneered. "Why the fuck are you crying? You don't even know me."

"But — but you were… I -" Tears were streaming freely down Erin's cheeks, smearing her mascara. "I-it w-was my fir — first time and y-you… h-how c-could… you — you jerk! I ha — hate you!" With a choked sob, she quickly crawled past him and opened the door, jumping out of the van and taking off.

Fitz considered going after her, but decided against it. Disgust filled him as her words settled, and he realized that he'd taken a girl's virginity. Granted, he had done it before, when he'd lost his own back when he was a niner, but instead of rough sex it had been awkward and clumsy. It wasn't as if he'd never entertained the thought of being _Clare's_ first either — but with her, he had every intention of being gentle. The fucking would come later, when she was used to him.

His member twitched as Clare invaded his mind once more, but he ignored it and eventually, his pants became less restricting.

After finishing his cigarette, Fitz climbed out of the van and made his way back to the campfire. The party had died down somewhat, but there was still a large group sitting around. He settled next to Bianca, who gave him a look and rolled her eyes before handing him a joint.

He took it from her, bringing it to his lips and inhaling.

oOo

The following day, after school, Clare went to Little Miss Steaks, just as planned. She waited an hour for Fitz, but he never showed. Another hour passed, and still, nothing. She was nearing her third hour there when Holly J joined her, on her break of course, sliding into the booth across from her while Clare continued to spare anxious glances at the door and her watch.

"Maybe something came up."

"_Or_… he bailed." Holly J replied sensibly. "Think about it. You've been waiting here for almost three hours and he still hasn't come. He probably isn't going to."

Clare bit the corner of her thumb. "Don't be ridiculous. He wouldn't do that."

Holly J cocked an eyebrow.

"You don't know Mark like I do." Clare insisted. "He wouldn't… something must've happened."

Holly J stared at her in pity.

"I know you want to see the good in people, but sometimes… there just isn't. You can't keep thinking that you can save everyone — you'll only end up being let down."

"Mark's different. He's changed." Clare told her.

Holly J pursed her lips. "Are you sure about that?"

Clare furrowed her brow.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

The older girl sighed. "Listen… I didn't want to have to be the bearer of bad news… but I heard there was a party at the Ravine last night, and that Fitz was there."

Clare stopped fidgeting, narrowing her eyes accusingly.

"You're lying."

Before Holly J could respond, Clare stood up, throwing her book bag over her shoulder and storming out of the restaurant.

X

**Oh, hey Holly J. You weren't originally going to be in this chapter, but I needed someone to tip off Clare. Clare's in denial, though. Season 7 Holly J would've bitch-slapped her for stepping out of line like that and calling her a liar. You just don't piss off the HBIC like that.**

** So… yeah. Fitz is an ass in this chapter, and will be in the next one as well. The next few chapters are gonna be crazy.**

** Anyway, again, it's kind of short, but hopefully you guys enjoyed.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	22. Relapse II

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Another quick update.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Relapse II**_

X

Fitz sighed as he took a swig of his beer and glanced around. It was a normal day at the Ravine — not too crowded, but still enough people to keep things interesting. Owen sat on his left, chugging his own beer while Bianca and Ron-Ron occupied the log on his other side. He was waiting for the latter to leave so that he could finally talk to her, keeping himself entertained with the girl on his lap.

Jillian was short and curvy, with black hair and big green eyes. She was a Ravine regular and had a bit of a reputation for giving great head. She'd been making it painfully obvious that she wanted him, and even though he had no intention of actually hooking up with her, he played along.

In the distance, he heard a twig snap, but didn't pay any attention until Bianca said his name. Glancing up, he was taken aback when he spotted Clare Edwards emerge from some bushes. When their eyes locked, he knew he was in trouble and promptly shoved Jillian off his lap and told her to get lost. She scrambled to her feet and left with a huff, just as Clare reached the campfire and stood in front of him.

"Three hours!" She seethed, glowering at him. "I waited three hours, but you never showed! You stood me up! Here I was, scared out of my mind thinking something bad happened to you, when you were _here_ the whole time!"

He could feel Bianca's gaze on him, but ignored her, keeping his attention focused on Clare.

"I didn't want to believe Holly J when she said you'd be here, but apparently she was right." Clare continued, planting her hands firmly on her hips and giving him an expectant look. "_Well_? Explain yourself!"

The crowd around the bonfire erupted with snickers and laughs.

"Ohh!"

"Someone's in for it!"

"Better fess up, Fitzy-boy! _Mommy_'s pissed!"

Fitz scowled, silencing them in an instant, before leaning back and eyeing Clare lazily.

"What's there to explain?" He asked casually.

"_What_?"

Fitz shrugged, inspecting the stain on the sleeve of his shirt. "You ditched me for emo boy. I was just returning the favor."

Clare's mouth fell open in shock.

"_That's_ what this is about?" She said disbelievingly. "I told you I was sorry! I thought you understood -"

"Yeah," Fitz cut her off and stood up, "until you keep doing it again and again and again. Then it's just a word and it doesn't mean _shit_!"

"What are you _talking_ about?" She cried.

"I'm sick of always coming in second to emo boy!" Fitz snarled.

"What do you want me to do? He's my boyfriend!" Clare shot back.

"And that makes him top priority over everyone else?" Fitz challenged, clenching his fists. "Damn it! What the _fuck_ does he have?"

Clare's body trembled as she tried to maintain her composure.

"This isn't _about_ Eli." She spoke evenly. "This is about _you_. Why are you _here_? I thought you were done with this."

"I like it here." Fitz told her. "Sorry to disappoint you Clare, but this -" he motioned to their surroundings, "- _this_ is who I am."

"That's not true!" Clare insisted. "What about wanting to change?"

"No." Fitz answered simply. "I tried… but it's never gonna happen. Sorry."

"So — what? This whole thing was a waste of time?" She spat, her cheeks growing red with fury. "I'm just supposed to give up and go home, is that it? And we pretend like this didn't happened?"

Fitz stared at her impassively. Then he gave a curt nod.

"Yeah," he said, stepping forward. "Think about this way — now you get to spend all your free time with _Eli_." He leaned in, his mouth against her ear, and felt her shudder instinctively. "Won't that be fun? Without me getting in the way, you guys can catch up. You can skip class together like you did on Monday — don't think I didn't notice that emo boy wasn't in Shop. Or was that just a coincidence? Did you guys go back to your place and have sex while your parents weren't home?" He heard her whisper "stop" but went on, not caring how crude he was being. "Why? Does the thought of him pounding into you get you all hot and bothered? Are you a missionary girl, or do you like it from behind? Nah, I bet you prefer to be on top. Don't you, _Clare-bear_?"

"Stop it!" She shrieked, pushing him away from her. Her face was flushed, both from embarrassment and anger.

He smirked and her nostrils flared. Just as she was about to slap him, however, Owen came up behind her, looping his arms under hers and bringing her to a halt. Owen laughed as she struggled against him.

"You seem angry, Edwards!" He jeered. "Know what might cool you down? A nice, good _fuck_."

The entire group, which Fitz had forgotten was there until that point, roared with laughter at Clare's expense, save for Bianca who remained silent. She wore a look of disgust on her face, but Fitz couldn't tell if it was because she pitied Clare or if it was because she wasn't quite on board with Owen's sense of humor — or both.

"What do you say, Fitzy?" Owen's voice brought his attention back to the football player, and the girl squirming in his arms. "You want to do the honors of popping this cherry, or can I?"

_What_?

His eyes widened briefly at Owen's implication, and when he saw Clare's face pale, a wave of nausea washed over him. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and, keeping his expression unreadable, shook his head.

"Just let her go, man." He said calmly. "She's not worth it."

Owen seemed mildly shocked at first, but released Clare. She glared venomously at Fitz, breathing heavily as angry tears glistened in her eyes.

"Don't ever talk to me again." She said coldly, before whipping around and walking away from him.

As soon as she was gone, Fitz took off in the opposite direction with Bianca in tow. Owen stayed where he was, by the bonfire with the rest of the group, raving about the "epic showdown" between him and Clare.

"You gonna tell me what the hell _that_ was about?" Bianca asked when he finally came to a stop. "Or am I gonna have to beat it out of you?"

"Shut up." Fitz muttered, settling down on the sand.

She lowered herself to the ground next to him, drawing her knees to her chest as she gazed out at the lake. "It's just… I thought you liked her."

"I do."

Bianca snorted.

"Sure got a fucked up way of showing it, Fitz."

Fitz sighed and fell back, folding his arms behind his head and staring at the sky.

"I don't know why I said those things." He said honestly. "I was just mad, I guess."

Bianca nodded in understanding, plucking a nearby stone and pitching it into the water. It landed with a _plunk_ and she did it again before it quickly bored her. Then a blanket of silence enveloped them, but it was short-lived, and after a few minutes, Bianca broke it.

"Do you really think it's impossible for people like us to change?"

Fitz craned his neck to look at her.

"Why?" He asked.

Bianca refused to meet his gaze, and continued to stare on, seemingly mesmerized by the setting sun. "I don't know."

"Liar. Tell me." He pressed.

Bianca let go of the breath she'd been holding. "I've been thinking a lot lately… about my rep, or whatever."

"I thought you didn't care about that."

"I _don't_," said Bianca, "but… I'm tired of always getting stuck with sleazy assholes. It sounds pathetic, but for once I'd like a guy who doesn't just see me as a casual fling or someone to cheat with while their girlfriend is away at fucking Bible camp. You know?"

Fitz stared at his friend in awe, not sure how to react to such a confession. He'd always known Bianca to be sexy and confident; the kind of girl who didn't take shit from anyone and who wouldn't hesitate to kick someone's ass if they pissed her off. It was almost scary to realize that beneath all those layers, Bianca was still a girl — a girl with insecurities, who hid behind a stone mask.

Like him.

"And whenever a nice, decent guy _does_ come along, I just screw it up royally. Sometimes I wish I wasn't such a hard bitch, but then I'd have to…" Bianca trailed off.

"Let down your walls?" He finished.

"Yeah," she said softly, "but if I do that, I leave myself vulnerable… and then I can get hurt. I don't want to be like one of those girls whose happiness relies solely on their boyfriends. I don't want to have to _depend_ on him or any of that bullshit."

He racked his brain for words of comfort, only to draw a blank. Instead, he steered the conversation in another direction.

"So… is it true you hooked up with Drew Torres on Vegas Night?"

Bianca's body went rigid.

"Yes." She muttered.

Fitz made a face. "I didn't know you liked him."

"I didn't. _Don't_," she corrected herself. "He was just… a substitute."

"Substitute?" Fitz repeated, raising a brow. "For who?"

"For someone I actually like." Bianca replied, resting her chin on her knees. "Doesn't matter, though. He was a crappy sub, and a douche bag. Torres may be hot, but that's all he's got going for him. That Tranny — _freak_ brother of his has more balls than he does… figuratively speaking, I mean." She laughed bitterly. "Asshole cheats on his girlfriend, and when Bhandari finds out, he blames the whole thing on me. _Yeah_. Like it doesn't take two. It's not like I slipped him a Roofie and took advantage of him." She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'm over it."

Fitz knew she wasn't, but he didn't call her bluff. He sat up a bit, resting his weight on his elbows, and watched as the sun disappeared beneath the lake.

"I don't know anything anymore," he said slowly, "except that I doubt Clare's ever gonna forgive me, after today."

"Never know," Bianca murmured. "She's gotta be _Saint Clare_ for a reason, right?"

Fitz didn't respond, and once again, there was silence.

oOo

When he returned home later that evening, the apartment was eerily quiet. The lights were off, save for the dim flickering of the TV screen in the living room, and the blinking numbers on the microwave above the stove. Dropping his bag to the floor, Fitz groped along the wall until he finally found the light and flicked it on — and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Phil lounging at the kitchen table, holding a half-empty bottle.

"— the fuck have you been, boy?" Phil slurred, lifting his head.

Fitz rolled his eyes. "None of your fucking business."

He regretted those words instantly, when the bottle in his step-father's grip suddenly soared past his head and shattered against the wall behind him. Wide-eyed, Fitz made a mad dash to his room, but Phil, despite being drunk, was too fast and caught him by the arm. He clenched his teeth as Phil tightened his grip, twisting his arm so far back that it threatened to break.

"What did I tell you about talking back, boy?" Phil barked, and suddenly his knuckles connected with the side of Fitz's face. "Answer me!"

"I don't —" Fitz started, but when Phil delivered a swift punch to his gut, knocking the wind right out of him.

The teen doubled over in agony, falling to his knees and wheezing.

But Phil didn't stop.

Instead, he kicked him hard in the side. Tears stung Fitz's eyes as he curled into a fetal position, trying to shield his head as Phil continued his assault. He cried out when Phil's steel-toed boot met his back; the pain was crippling and unbearable, and it took all his strength to roll over in an attempt to crawl to the safety of his bedroom. His step-father brought him to a halt, grabbing him by the shirt and forcing him to stand before shoving him into the wall.

Fitz winced, too weak to put up a fight when Phil wrapped his thick fingers around his neck and squeezed.

"You're so damn lucky your mom loves you, you little shit. Because if I had it my way, you'd be on the streets right now." The older man spat. "Or buried six feet under. I don't really care."

Another blow to the stomach, and a final one to the head.

Then… there was nothing.

X

**And that's the end of chapter 22. I imagine many of you have mixed reactions about Fitz now. You were probably pissed at him at the beginning of this chapter, right? So was I.**

** On a more positive (kind of) note… I gave you more insight to why Bianca's been acting weird. She'll be in the next chapter as well.**

** With that said… I hope you guys enjoyed.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	23. Break I

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: I'd meant to have this up earlier, but ended up going out of town with my family, and didn't have time to write.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Break I**_

X

It was eight-thirty in the morning and Bianca found herself at the back of the classroom, drumming her manicured nails against the desk while Armstrong took attendance. She was struggling to stay awake, but her eyes kept drooping. She hadn't slept well the night before, and the fact that school started so early didn't help any. If she didn't know any better, she'd be convinced that it was just to torture them - after all, it wasn't as if they had enough shit to deal with.

She scoffed.

"Mark? Mark Fitzgerald?" Armstrong called out, cutting into her thoughts.

Bianca's head perked up at her friend's name, dark eyes flickering over to his seat. She frowned she saw that it was empty, but no one else in the room — with the exception of Armstrong, who simply shook his head in disappointment — seemed to notice or care. Months ago, she wouldn't have given his absence a second thought either, since it would've been just like Fitz to skip.

That had changed, though. Ever since he'd returned to Degrassi, he hadn't missed a single class.

So either he was slipping back into his old routine, or something had happened.

Bianca didn't know which answer she preferred.

.

.

.

When homeroom let out, the first thing Bianca did was head straight to the washroom to check her makeup.

She hid the bags under her eyes — which were far too apparent for her liking — with concealer, and fixed her hair. She was just about to reapply her lipgloss when the door swung open and Clare entered. Upon seeing her, however, the younger girl turned to leave, but Bianca was quicker and caught her before she could.

"Chill, Edwards, I'm not gonna hurt you!" She snapped when Clare tried to pull away.

"What do you _want_?" The other teen hissed.

Bianca's grip slackened some. "Fitz wasn't in class. I just thought you should know."

Clare's eyes darkened, and without warning she ripped her arm out of Bianca's grasp.

"_Mark_ isn't my problem anymore." She spat angrily. "He made it very clear that I wasn't worth his time and vice-versa. What he does now is completely up to him."

With that, Clare spun around on her heel and marched out of the restroom. As Bianca watched her leave, she wondered if she should've defended Fitz or told Clare about the conversation she'd had with him after their fight.

Bianca shook her head, refusing to dwell on the matter any longer. Gathering her purse, she made her way to her next class.

oOo

_Mark…_

_ Mark…_

_ Mark…_

He awakes to the sound of a voice, tranquil and barely above a whisper. When he sits up, he doesn't recognize his surroundings. He has no idea where he is, but everything around him is white — the walls, the sheets, the carpet - even the transparent curtains, billowing in a breeze that he can't feel.

Then he sees _her_, standing just a few feet away, watching him, and confusion sets in. She looks older and she's draped in a white nightgown that reaches her thighs. Her smooth, creamy skin is practically glowing, and he wants so badly to touch her — to _feel_ her. But then his gaze drops and he sees the gold band on her left hand, resting upon her protruding belly.

He opens his mouth to speak, but she silences him, pressing her fingertips to his lips.

"Shh," she whispers, kneeling on the edge of the bed and leaning over him.

Her face is so close that her feathery curls graze his cheeks. As he stares into her eyes, he wants nothing more than to drown in them.

"What…?" He manages to force out.

She smiles down at him and cups his face with her soft hands.

"It's you," she tells him, caressing the skin below his ears. "It's always been you."

He doesn't know what she's talking about, or what she means. But then, as if reading his mind, she answers.

"I love you."

… and his heart soars.

.

.

.

A loud _crash_, followed by a string of profanities that could only come from his step-father, jolted Fitz from his slumber. He hissed as he sat up too quickly, every muscle and bone in his body screaming in agony. He clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he forced himself to get out of bed and make his way over to the closet. He fished through piles of dirty laundry, and eventually found a pair of jeans and a sweater that he deemed clean enough, and carefully changed into them.

He'd managed to regain consciousness just before his mom got home, and feigned feeling sick so that he wouldn't have to leave his room. Then she and Phil retreated to their own room, and through the thin walls, he was forced to hear them going at it. Phil's grunts and dirty talk had kept him up most of the night. He finally fell asleep around four in the morning, and slept the whole day away, missing school in the process.

Then again, he wasn't sure if he could face Clare after what'd happened at the Ravine. He supposed he could blame it on the alcohol, but that was the coward's way out. He'd just been bitter and jealous, and took his anger out on her. That's all there was to it. It was petty and immature, but it was true.

Sighing, he made his way out of his room. As he neared the living room, he could hear the TV buzzing and knew Phil was still there, probably passed out on the couch with a beer in his hand.

Without even so much as sparing his step-dad a glance, he left.

X

**This was a bad chapter. Ugh. But I'm super tired, and I haven't gotten much sleep in the past couple of days. But I promise next chapter will be better. From chapter twenty-four on, shit's gonna get real. I kid you not. A lot of things are going to happen in the next few chapters. I know I've been dragging this on, and it wasn't my intention. Originally, what's going to happen NEXT chapter was going to be in this one ****—**** this one was going to be longer, but right now I'm so exhausted, but I promised an update so here it is. It's short and kind of weird, but I promised you guys an update.**

** Fitz's dream-sequence was… weird to write. I like writing dreams in present-tense, and I've done that before except with Clare's because I wanted to see if I could completely throw you guys off.**

** Anyway, enough of my rambling. Next chapter will be better.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think! **


	24. Break II

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Quick update. Whoo!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Break II**_

X

_"Fitz wasn't in class. I just thought you should know."_

Bianca's words had been echoing in the back of Clare's mind all day, making it almost impossible to concentrate on anything else. Although she'd told the older girl that Fitz was no longer of any concern to her, she couldn't help but worry, if only a little — but then she'd remind herself of what had happened at the Ravine, and how he had treated her, and then she'd remember why it was she should just forget about Fitz. If he wanted to let his mom down, that was his problem. If he wanted to throw away the progress they'd made and give up, then so be it. He made his choice and there was nothing she could do about it.

Clare sighed loudly as she fell onto the sofa and turned on the TV. She flipped aimlessly through the channels, trying to find something to distract herself with. She considered calling Eli, but he'd told her earlier that he was going out to dinner with his parents and wouldn't be back home until later that evening — and there was no way her parents would ever let her…

… but then, when was the last time her parents had actually paid attention to her? Her dad was always at work, and if her mom wasn't at some church function, she was too drunk to notice if Clare snuck out or missed her curfew.

She crinkled her nose in disgust.

A growl emitted from her stomach, bringing her back to the present. Reluctantly, she rolled off the couch and stood up, heading to the kitchen for something to eat. She didn't know when or if her parents would be home, so she dug through the pantry and found a box of Kraft Dinner. Before she could start boiling the water, however, she heard a knock at the door.

Turning off the oven, she dragged herself over to the door and opened it. Her eyes widened when she saw who it was.

There, standing on her porch drenched from head-to-foot, was none other than Mark Fitzgerald.

Her first instinct was to slam the door in his face and leave it at that, but as she took in the sight of him — the slumped shoulders, the cut on his cheekbone, his lifeless expression — her anger dissipated, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. It wouldn't be right to leave him in the rain, especially so close to winter. He could catch something.

Clare wondered how long Fitz had been outside. His neighbourhood was twenty minutes away by bus, and he'd obviously walked. Furthermore, how did he know where she lived? She couldn't recall ever telling him, but rather than interrogating him for an answer, Clare reached over and pulled him inside. No words were uttered between them as she led him to her living room and sat him down on the couch before turning on the fireplace.

"Wait here," she murmured, avoiding his gaze. "I'll get you something warm to put on, and then throw your clothes in the dryer."

She didn't wait for a response, and instead, ventured up the stairs and into her parents' bedroom. It used to be tidy and organized like the rest of the house, but now their bed wasn't made, and everything seemed out of place — a testament, perhaps, to their crumbling marriage. Or maybe they'd simply stopped trying to keep up the façade of a "perfect" Christian family. Suppressing those thoughts, Clare turned to the dresser on her left and went through it. She grabbed a pair of her dad's pants and a shirt before closing the drawer and making her way back downstairs.

Upon entering the living room, Clare stopped dead in her tracks, an audible gasp escaping her lips. Fitz's jeans and hoodie lay discarded on the floor, leaving him only in his plaid boxers, but it wasn't his lack of dress that'd startled her. Rather, it was the dark bruises marring his back, shoulders and ribs. She brought a hand to her mouth just as Fitz glanced over, having heard her.

"What -" She began, but he cut her off.

"It's nothing." He said quickly.

Clare knew he was lying through his teeth. Swallowing hard, she handed him her father's clothes and took his own to the laundry room, tossing them into the dryer before returning to the living room. Fitz was already dressed and sitting on the sofa, his hands clasped together and eyes trained on the coffee table in front of him.

Hesitantly, she sat down beside him.

"Mark… why are you here?" She asked slowly.

Fitz shook his head. At first, Clare thought he was going to give her the silent treatment, but then he turned to look at her and her heart ached when she saw that his eyes were glistening with tears.

"Because," he whispered, "I have nowhere else to go."

.

.

.

He could see the confusion in her eyes as he spoke.

"What… what do you mean?" She asked, her voice quivering. "What happened?"

Fitz laughed bitterly, bowing his head. He debated whether or not to tell her. Would she believe him if he did? Would she _pity_ him? Would she get the cops involved? A dozen scenarios paraded through his mind. He peered over at Clare once again; she was watching him closely, waiting patiently for an answer.

"My step-dad…" he started, and broke off. Almost instantly, his heartbeat sped up, his nerves getting the best of him. He felt sick to his stomach. His palms grew clammy and his hands began to shake. He tried again, "My step-dad… well, let's just say he makes a nasty drunk." Clare's brow furrowed. Then her face seemed to register something — realization. Horror. Disbelief. He continued. "Stupid shit will set him off… and then he'll take it out on me. It's been like this since I was… I don't know… maybe seven or eight? Somewhere around there, I think." He swallowed the lump in his throat, and licked his dry lips. "Last night he roughed me up pretty bad — even knocked me out, and left me on the kitchen floor."

There were tears in Clare's eyes as he unveiled is darkest secret.

He laughed, but again it was bitter and forced. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I didn't… I just came here to apologize for what happened at the Ravine, but… I'm just… I don't want to go back home. Not when he's there."

"Does your mom know?"

Fitz shook his head. "No. You're the first person I've told."

"Mark…" Clare whispered, reaching for his hand — but he pulled away.

"I don't want your pity." He muttered. "I don't _need_ it. I don't -"

"I think you should tell her." Clare insisted.

"No." Fitz said firmly. "I can't. If I do, then he'll hurt _her_. I can't let that happen. Clare, you have to promise me you won't tell _anyone_."

"Mark… I… I don't know if I can do that…"

Fitz stood up abruptly.

"I shouldn't have said anything," he murmured, more so to himself. "Just… forget that we had this conversation, okay?"

He began to pace around the room frantically. Clare jumped to her feet and grabbed his arm.

"Mark, stop it! You need to calm down!" She cried.

"Let _go_ of me!" He shouted, tearing his arm away.

"Mark, just… listen to me…" Clare said desperately, "You _need_ to tell your mom about this… or-or go to the police… they could help you and -"

"Shut up!" Fitz snarled. "You don't know anything!"

"I know that you deserve to be treated better than this!" Clare shot back. She reached for him again, but he knocked her hand away — only to grab her by the shoulders and pin her to the threshold connecting the living room to the kitchen, pressing his body against hers.

Her blue eyes widened in fear.

Fitz sighed, fighting back the urge to stroke her cheek.

"See?" He muttered. "You're scared of me. I'm probably gonna be just like him when I grow up. I'm worthless, Clare. I'm a waste of human life and everyone knows it!"

"That's not true!" Clare cried. "You're better than you think you are! You're smart and wonderful… you just need to let other people in, and then they'll see it too!"

"No," Fitz breathed, "to them, I'm always gonna be some delinquent psychopath."

"You're _not_, though." Clare assured him. "I know that… your mom knows that… even Mister Simpson knows it!"

"Stop it…"

"No! Not until you realize that there are people out there who care about you, and who know you're better than you give yourself credit for and who _want_ to see you succeed!"

Fitz's body shook uncontrollably. His throat tightened and his eyes stung with angry tears. Then, without warning, his knees buckled and he crumbled to the floor, taking Clare with him. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck — and for the first time in years, Mark Fitzgerald cried.

oOo

"I'm sorry."

Clare's gaze flickered over to Fitz, who was sitting across from her staring at his bowl of KD, which he had yet to touch. She'd hardly made a dent in hers either, despite the fact that she hadn't eaten since noon. Fitz had finally calmed down a half-hour prior, and changed back into his own clothes once they were dry. Then she'd made them both supper, but neither one of them had really touched their food. Although she was starving, she was simply too emotionally drained to stomach anything.

"It's fine," she said softly.

"Not just that… but about what happened at the Ravine, too." His voice was still raspy. "I said some stuff I shouldn't have… but I didn't mean any of it…"

She'd almost forgotten about the incident at the Ravine. She grimaced, recalling the feel of Owen's strong hold on her and the vulgar things he'd said, and how Fitz had just sat there and watched before deeming her _not worth it_. She couldn't recall ever being so furious. It'd taken all her willpower not to hit him.

"So why did you act like such a jerk?" She asked.

Fitz sighed, leaning back.

"Because… I was jealous. Of _him_."

Eli. There was no one else he could be talking about but Eli. Clare bit her lip, lowering her gaze.

She remembered what Abby had told her, about Fitz having feelings for her.

"Mark… how long have you liked me?" She asked.

Fitz blinked, taken aback by her bluntness. Then he shifted uncomfortably and glanced away.

"Since last year." He admitted.

Clare sucked in a sharp breath.

Abby had been right.

"But… how?" Clare asked. "I didn't… we didn't know each other until a few months ago."

Fitz smiled weakly.

"I saw you around…" He said. "It was hard not to notice someone wearing a uniform at a public school. Then you stood up to the Shep… and after that I couldn't get you out of my head. I wanted to get to know you… but I was a nobody. No one knew my name. I was just some punk who hung out with Moose and Johnny… and you were just… out of my league." He spoke in a daze, staring off to the side as he looked back on his memories. "Then you started dating Guthrie, but by then I was too busy trying to build my rep and make a name for myself. I wanted you to know who I was, but you never did… and when you guys split, I didn't know how to approach you because you weren't like the girls I usually chilled with…" He sighed. "I was gonna ask you out this year if you were over Guthrie… but then emo boy came along and ruined that."

Clare's mind reeled. She felt overwhelmed by his confession.

"Is that why you went after Eli?" She asked.

"Part of the reason."

"And the other part?"

Fitz shrugged. "He pissed me off."

"What about Adam?" Clare pressed. "Why'd you target him?"

"I have nothing against Torres," said Fitz. "But Bee was pissed when she found out about… well… you know. I think he was the first guy she ever _really_ liked… then she realized he wasn't… I mean… that…" he trailed off, hesitant to say anything that might offend her on Adam's behalf.

"I get it."

Fitz nodded, before glancing at the clock behind her. He stood and she followed suit.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"Home." Fitz replied.

"But what about your step-dad?" Clare reminded him. "What if he hurts you again?"

"Better me than my mom." He said, opening the door.

Clare stepped outside with him, rubbing her arms when the freezing air met her bare skin. It'd stopped raining, but the temperature had dropped significantly in the past couple of hours.

"I still think you should tell someone." She said.

"Don't worry about it. I'll deal." Fitz looked at her and gave her a reassuring smile.

Clare couldn't help but smile back.

"Clare… thanks." He said.

He turned to leave, only to stop suddenly and face her once more.

"Mark?" She questioned. "What's wron -"

Before she could finish, Fitz's lips were on hers, silencing her. Clare froze, too stunned to move as Fitz's hands found her hips and pulled her close. Instinctively, her eyes fluttered shut and she relaxed, letting him deepen the kiss by opening her mouth and granting his tongue entry. She whimpered when his tongue met hers, falling back against her front door. Then he broke the kiss and leaned in, his lips ghosting over her ear while his fingers caressed her sides.

"I love you,"

Clare's eyes snapped open as realization dawned on her.

"No!" She gasped, pushing him away.

Fitz stumbled back, hurt evident in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking her head. "But I love Eli. I can't do this to him."

Rather than get angry, like she expected, Fitz nodded in understanding.

"I know. I just… wanted to know what it was like." He confessed. "It won't happen again."

"It _can't_." Clare told him. "And you can't say a word of this to anyone."

"I won't." Fitz promised, turning away from her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Clare."

With that, he took off down the road and disappeared into the night.

Clare waited until she could no longer see him before retreating to the warmth of her house, her lips still tingling from Fitz's kiss.

Neither she nor Fitz saw the figure lurking nearby, or heard the soft _click_ of a camera phone.

"Oh... this is rich..."

X

**Surprise, surprise. I managed to have it finished by tonight!**

** So… yeah. From this chapter on, a lot is going to happen.**

** Care to guess who was creepin'? I'll give a virtual cookie to anyone who gets it right. It probably won't surprise you.**

** Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	25. Crash

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Shit is about to hit the fan.

**EDIT:**** I deleted this chapter, then went back and fixed some stuff.**

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Crash**_

X

She spent the whole night thinking about the kiss.

"Clare,"

Needless to say, it had prevented her from getting some much needed sleep.

"_Clare_,"

And now she wasn't sure how she was going to be able to look Eli in the eye ever again.

"Clare!"

The sound of her mother's shrill voice jerked the teen out of her reverie. She glanced to her left, where her mother sat staring ahead. Clare had been more than a little surprised when she got up that morning to find her mother waiting for her in the kitchen, and for the first time in months, she'd gotten a ride to school. They were currently parked just outside of Degrassi.

"Mom?"

"Clare, I want you to come home right after school today." Helen Edwards said stiffly, never once looking at her daughter. "Your father and I need to tell you something."

Clare felt her stomach drop instantly. "Mom -"

"You're going to be late for class," her mother interrupted, motioning for her to get out of the car. "I'll see you later."

Clare wanted to object — to stay exactly where she was and _demand_ to know what was going on — but words failed her. With a defeated sigh, Clare climbed out of the van and watched as it sped off. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and made her way into the school, completely oblivious to the whispers and strange glances that followed her through the halls. She was far too absorbed in her own thoughts, worrying about what was going to happen when she went home. It wasn't until she nearly collided with another body that she snapped out of her daze.

Alli and Jenna stood before her wearing matching looks of disbelief.

"You and _Fitz_?" Her best friend cried, waving her hands frantically.

Clare went rigid.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's all over the Anti-Grapevine!" Alli told her, her eyes wide.

"_What_ is?" Clare's voice cracked.

"Come with us," Jenna said urgently, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her into the Media Immersions classroom. She brought up the Anti-Grapevine on one of the computers and pointed to the large caption on the screen.

Big, bold letters glared back at her.

**FROM SAINT TO SINNER!**

_The latest in Degrassi gossip makes it clear that goody two shoes Saint Clare may not be so innocent after all. This pic, which was sent to me last night anonymously, exposes the scandalous double life of sophomore __**Clare Edwards**__, seen here kissing none other than junior __**Mark Fitzgerald**__. Apparently, Clare likes her boys to be bad to the bone. Who would've ever guessed?_

Then she saw it.

A photo of her and Fitz from the previous night.

On her porch.

Locked at the lips.

Clare's heart stopped and she took a step back, shaking her head

"No…" she whispered, feeling sick to her stomach. "This can't be happening… no!" She glanced over at her friends. "How many people have seen this?"

"Everyone," Jenna answered with a grimace.

"Eli," Clare breathed, realization dawning on her. "Have either of you seen him? ANSWER ME!"

Jenna and Alli jumped.

"I-I think he was outside…" Jenna stammered unsurely. "But… Clare-Bear… I wouldn't -"

Before the blonde could finish her sentence, Clare was out the door and racing down the halls. Only this time, she was very much aware of the smirks and disbelieving stares she was receiving. She ignored them all, and continued to run, pushing open the front doors and searching for her boyfriend.

She knew he didn't read the Anti-Grapevine. There was a good chance he still didn't know.

She just had to get to him before someone else told him.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Clare froze upon hearing her boyfriend's voice, and spun around on her heel just in time to see him march over to Fitz — who'd just gotten off the bus — and punch him square in the jaw. A few bystanders shrieked, and Fitz, who hadn't expected the blow, stumbled back, clutching his jaw. Clare made a mad dash over to the duo, reaching them just as Eli lunged forward again and tackled Fitz to the ground.

"Stop it!" She screamed.

But Eli didn't listen. He continued to beat Fitz, hitting him everywhere he could reach — his face, his neck, his head, his mouth — all the while ignoring Clare's pleas. Meanwhile, Fitz tried to block Eli's blows, and struggled to get the smaller teen off. Her throat felt raw by the time another figure swooped in, and suddenly, Adam was pulling Eli back.

"Shit, Eli! Are you trying to get yourself expelled?" He snapped as Eli fought against his — surprisingly strong — hold.

Fitz managed to sit up, wiping the blood from his lip and glaring daggers at the dark-haired boy.

"What the hell, man?" He snarled. "What's your problem?"

"You asshole! You know exactly what you did!" Eli bellowed, his face red and eyes blazing with fury.

Fitz frowned, turning his attention to Clare. "Clare, what -"

"Leave," she whispered. When he opened his mouth to protest, she narrowed her eyes dangerously. "I said _leave_!"

He obeyed, albeit reluctantly, and slowly rose to his feet. Casting one last glance in her direction, he disappeared into the school. As soon as he was out of sight and earshot, Clare rounded on Eli — no longer being held back by Adam — who stood a few feet from her, his body shaking with uncontrollable rage and fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Eli, I…" she started, but the dark-haired teen stopped her.

"Don't! Don't you _dare_!" He spat. "Just how _stupid_ do you think I am, Clare? Huh? You think I wouldn't find out?" He laughed humourlessly and dug through his pocket to retrieve his cell phone, showing her the screen. "Hard not to, when I woke up to _this_!"

A lump formed in Clare's throat.

"I… I can explain!" She choked out.

"EXPLAIN WHAT?" Eli shouted. "That you've been cheating on me with fucking _FITZ_ of all people?"

"I'm not cheating on you! You have to believe me! I would never -"

"Damn it, Clare, I'm not blind! I know a kiss when I see one!"

Tears burned Clare's eyes.

"Just… let me explain… it's not… it's not what you think!" She cried desperately. "I — I've been tutoring Mark for the past month and -"

"_Mark_?" Eli repeated incredulously. "You're on a first name basis with him now?" He froze then, as her words sunk in. "Wait… _tutoring_ him?" The color slowly drained from his face, leaving him as pale as a ghost. "But then… you… you're the reason he's…"

Clare nodded slowly, her bottom lip quivering as guilt consumed her whole and tears threatened to spill.

"Yes," she croaked, before clearing her throat and lifting her gaze. "I… I wanted to tell you… I was going to, I swear! I just… I didn't know how and…" she trailed off, noticing that Eli wasn't listening. Instead, he was staring at her in horror.

"You…" he breathed, his eyes wide with disbelief, "you helped that menace… after what he did, you still…" A strangled cry erupted from him and he buried his hands in his hair, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head frantically. "No… no! Damn it, Clare! _How could you do this to me_?"

"Eli…" Clare reached towards him in an attempt to calm him down, but Eli recoiled from her touch in disgust.

"Get away from me, you — YOU TRAITOR!" He screeched, taking a step back.

"Eli," Clare whimpered. "I… I'm so sorry… I never meant to hurt you!"

"It's too late for that, Clare!" Eli barked angrily.

"Please…" she begged as tears streamed freel down her cheeks. "Don't hate me… I'll… I'll make it up to you, just… Eli… please…"

Eli shook his head, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears. "There's nothing you can do to make this better, Clare…"

Clare froze. "W-what?"

Eli tore his gaze away, focusing on anywhere but her.

"You betrayed me…" He said hoarsely. "I don't think I'll ever be able to trust you again."

"What are you saying?" Clare whispered as panic enveloped her.

"I hope you and _Fitzy_ have a nice life together." Eli told her, bitterness laced in his voice. "He obviously makes you happier than I ever could."

"No!" Clare's hands flew to her mouth. "No, Eli… please… don't! Let me earn your trust back! Give me another chance! Don't -!"

"Bye, Clare."

With that, Eli brushed past her and stormed away, never once glancing back. Adam, who had been watching the scene unfold in a stunned silence, lingered behind, clearly torn. Clare waited for him to tell her, _"I told you so,"_ but he remained mute. Instead, he gave her a sad look and walked off, leaving Clare completely and utterly alone.

As the school bell sounded, she let out a choked sob and began to cry.

X

**ONCE AGAIN, I WENT BACK AND CHANGED SOME STUFF. **

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think.**


	26. and Burn

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Oh, the craziness isn't over yet.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**… and Burn**_

X

_"Did you hear?"_

_ "Hear what?"_

Holly J Sinclair sighed irritably as the two girls sitting behind her began to whisper to one another. She focused the blackboard, trying to concentrate instead on what her Calculus teacher was writing. Unfortunately, the brainless bimbos made it almost impossible for her to do so.

_"About Clare Edwards!"_

Admittedly, hearing Clare's name piqued her interest. Against her better judgment, the redhead tuned in to her classmates' not-so-discreet conversation.

_"No, what happened?"_

_ "You're not gonna believe it __—__ but apparently, she was caught cheating on her boyfriend."_

_ "No way!"_

_ "Yes way! It's all everyone's talking about!"_

Holly J rolled her eyes.

Clare Edwards, committing infidelity? It wasn't possible.

It seemed as though, once again, Baby Edwards was the target of a nasty rumour. She distinctly recalled earlier that year, when everyone had thought she'd gotten a boob job. That had turned out to be a lie.

_"There's even a picture to prove it. Check the Anti-Grapevine if you don't believe me."_

Holly J frowned, her gaze flickering over to Chantay, who sat on the other side of the room, scribbling in her notebook.

_"So… who's the other guy?"_

_ "Fitz!"_

The pencil she was holding snapped in two.

oOo

Word spread like wildfire. By the time lunch came around, the entire school knew who she was and what she had done. Even people she'd never spoken to in her life gawked at her as she walked down the halls with her books cradled against her chest, and her head bowed in shame.

The day was only halfway done, and already she felt drained — both physically and emotionally. She just wanted to go home and curl up on her bed, and pretend that everything was still okay.

"Clare…"

The teen in question stiffened. Then, slowly, she turned around to face the last person she wanted to see.

Fitz stood awkwardly before her, sporting a shiner and a busted lip. Immediately her mind flashed to Eli all those months ago, when his feud with Fitz had first began. Her first instinct was to touch his lip, like she'd done with Eli. Her heart fluttered as she remembered how he'd leaned in as her thumb grazed his cut and she stepped closer to Fitz. Her body acted on its own, and she found herself reaching up. Fitz closed his eyes.

Then, without warning, her hand connected with the side of his face.

A resounding _**CRACK**_ echoed throughout the halls, and Fitz's eyes flew open in shock.

"I hope you're happy." Clare whispered angrily. "You ruined _everything_!"

Before Fitz could respond, she slammed her locker shut and ran.

She didn't know where she was running.

She didn't care.

All she knew was that she had to get away.

oOo

On the opposite end of the school, Bianca had just emerged from history after finishing a test, when suddenly Clare Edwards nearly collided with her. The older girl, with her quick reflexes, managed to move in time, pivoting on her heel just as Clare breezed past her. When she'd regained her balance, Bianca opened her mouth to yell at the younger girl for not paying attention — but before she could, Clare was already out the door, and Bianca simply didn't have the patience to chase her down and demand an apology.

_And…_

Her scowl melted, dark eyes softening somewhat. Hesitantly, she flipped open her phone for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. She scrolled through it, stopping only when she reached the text she'd gotten the previous night right before going to bed. She stared hard at the sender's name, feeling deeply unsettled — something she'd been experiencing a lot lately, much to her annoyance. There was no doubt in her mind that she had been one of the first to receive it.

Tearing her eyes away, she snapped her phone shut, her fingers closing around it. Her grip tightened as she contemplated what to do next.

_Damn it._

oOo

When she got home, it was already five o'clock. School ended at two.

After she'd left school, Clare had sent the rest of the day wandering around the city aimlessly, with no particular destination in mind. In retrospect, she realized she could've gone straight home and made up some excuse about how she was feeling under the weather — which wouldn't have been far from the truth — but then that would've meant having to face her parents sooner.

Now she was three hours late, and as she approached her house, her heart began to race. She knew trouble awaited her. A part of her considered fleeing, but she'd done enough of that. It was time to man up — figuratively speaking — and face the music.

So, with that in mind, Clare opened the front door and walked inside. At first, she was met with silence, and relief washed over her. It occurred to her that her parents might've gone out, but her blood ran cold as soon as she took another step forward and spotted her parents standing in the middle of the living room, looking none too pleased.

"_Where_ have you been?" Her mother demanded, crossing her arms.

The harshness of Helen Edwards' voice made Clare flinch and she hung her head, refusing to meet her mother's piercing gaze.

Before she could answer, her father spoke up. "We got a call from your principal. He said you missed your afternoon classes."

Clare clenched her jaw, ignoring the churning in her stomach. All she'd wanted was to get away — it hadn't even occurred to her that the school would call her parents to report her absence, and now she was not only late, but they knew about _that_ as well.

"I… I was having a bad day…" She said after a while — and it was the truth.

Her mother promptly scoffed, waving her hand dismissively.

"And you thought it would be okay to just _leave_?" She barked, and Clare flinched again, blinking back tears. "We sent you to Degrassi to get an education, _not_ so you could cut class whenever you felt like it!" She let out an exasperated sigh and turned to her husband. "I knew that school was bad news, Randall. Look what it did to Darcy — she was _perfect_ before they ruined her. And now _Clare_ is going to end up the same -"

"Helen, _don't_. Just _don't_." Mr. Edwards cut her off, throwing her a warning look. When he glanced over at his youngest daughter, he relaxed somewhat. "Clare… look at me."

Reluctantly, Clare obeyed and lifted her head. He smiled weakly at her before continuing. "We all have bad days, but… skipping? That's not like you, Clare-bear…" He didn't seem angry at all… just concerned. Worried. "Did something happen?"

"No," Clare replied — perhaps a bit too quickly. She could tell that her father didn't believe her, and averted her gaze. "I'm sorry… it won't happen again. I promise."

"It better not," her mother snipped. "Or you're going back to private school."

"_Helen_."

Sensing another argument, Clare decided to steer the conversation in another direction.

"So… um… what did you guys want to talk to me about? I… I mean besides…" she trailed off, and her parents exchanged uncertain looks.

"Clare, you might want to sit…" her father advised gently.

Clare tried to read his face, but couldn't, and took a seat on the couch. To still her trembling hands, she clasped them together and waited quietly.

After a few minutes, her mother finally broke the silence that had fallen on them.

"We're getting a divorce."

And just like that, Clare's whole world shattered.

"No…" she whispered, refusing to believe what she was hearing. "No! This has to be a joke — you're lying! Tell me you're lying!"

Her mother said nothing, while her father gave her a pitying look.

It was real.

It was happening.

Clare stood abruptly, her mind reeling.

She felt dizzy and confused and overwhelmed.

In less than twenty-four hours, her entire world had come crashing down. As if it weren't enough that her reputation had been tarnished; as if it weren't enough that Eli hated her and probably wouldn't speak to her ever again; as if it weren't enough that she would no longer be able to walk the halls without having everyone whispering about her and how she, _Saint Clare_, was a dirty, cheating _slut_ who strung two boys along at once.

Why not top it all off with her parents divorcing?

"Clare," her father's voice drew her attention back to him. "Clare, we're so sorry… we didn't want this to happen. We tried -"

"Obviously not hard enough!" Clare spat, glaring at him.

"Clare…" Her father placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down, but Clare shrugged it off and stepped back, shaking her head.

"I'm going to bed." She said coldly, and without another word, she walked past them and up the stairs.

They tried to call her back into the living room but she ignored them, slamming her bedroom door shut — rattling the pictures on the walls — and locking it for good measure. They weren't done, but she was.

Then she threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in her pillows…

… and screamed.

.

.

.

The house was empty when Clare finally left her room.

She didn't know how much time had passed, and as she wandered down the stairs and into the kitchen, she found that she simply didn't care. Her throat was raw from screaming, and crying had made her eyelids heavy; her cheeks were stained with tears and her hair was a wreck. She felt exhausted and weak.

She was in the midst of getting a glass of water to sooth her throat when she caught sight of the sheet of paper resting on the countertop. She walked over and picked it up, skimming over it.

_Clare,_

_ Your father and I went to see a lawyer. We'll be spending the night at Nana's._

_ There's some leftover pasta in the fridge if you get hungry._

_ We'll be home in the morning._

_ - Mom_

Clare crumpled the note, anger coursing through her veins.

How could her mother be so nonchalant?

Storming over to the fridge, Clare yanked the door open and grabbed the tupperware bowl that had the pasta, and fed it to the trash. She threw the container into the sink afterwards before making her way over to the cupboards, rummaging through them until she found what she was looking for. She smirked, feeling triumphant, and grabbed the bottle.

Her mother really needed a better hiding spot, she mused, as she popped the cork off and poured herself a drink.

Shooting a glance at the family portrait hanging on the living room wall, she rolled her eyes and brought the glass to her lips.

X

**… and that's the end of this chapter.**

** Blah, I'm feeling really… down lately, and I think it's effecting my writing. The last few chapters don't seem up to par with the rest, you know?**

** Anyway, I've got like… three papers due in the next two weeks, so… I probably won't be able to update during that time. I'll **_**try**_**, but I can't make any promises.**

** With that said, I hope you enjoyed this one.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	27. Drown in Me

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Ahh! Yesterday's episode! Fitz being abused? Totally called that. I just got the abuser wrong.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Drown in Me**_

X

When he got home, Fitz found his mother sitting at the kitchen table, gnawing at the corner of her thumb anxiously as she mulled over bills. It infuriated him that even on her one day off, she _still_ couldn't catch a break. Phil was, of course, absent — and although it did relieve him to a certain extent — it didn't surprise him. Phil always managed to disappear when it came time to pay the rent, so that he could avoid his wife _begging_ him to get a job and _help her_.

"Mark?" Fitz snapped out his reverie, just as his mother glanced up from the pile of envelopes scattered around her. She promptly gasped. "What _happened_ to you?"

Fitz grimaced, remembering the damage Eli had done on his face earlier that day, which he'd almost forgotten about.

"It's nothing," he lied. "Don't worry."

His mother regarded him sadly, disappointment evident in her eyes. "You got into another fight, didn't you? Oh, Mark… I thought we were _done_ with that…"

Fitz said nothing, and instead walked past her and went straight to his room. Dropping his bag to the floor, he fell back onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He thought about what had happened that day; about being attacked by Eli as soon as he got to school, about the picture on the Anti-Grapevine, about Clare's words after she'd slapped him and took off…

_"I hope you're happy. You ruined everything!"_

She was convinced that he was behind the picture. It definitely looked that way, but the truth was… he had no idea who had taken it, or why, and it hurt him that Clare would think that he would deliberately go out of his way to ruin her reputation. He wanted her, yes — more than anyone in the world — but more than that, he wanted her to be happy, and if _emo boy_ made her happy, then… that was that.

Fitz sat up quickly.

He had to make things right — to explain himself. To make Clare see that he would never hurt her. That she could _trust_ him.

So, after changing out of his uniform and into his regular clothes, he set off to do just that.

oOo

Clare smiled lazily, humming to herself as she lounged on the sofa with one leg dangling over the edge and the other bent at the knee. She'd been watching TV for the past thirty or so minutes, but had no idea what was going on. Her mind was buzzing. It was all foggy and she couldn't think straight, but she felt warm and relaxed and wanted to _keep_ feeling that way.

A giggle fell from her lips, and she was about to take another drink when the doorbell rang. Clare pouted, not wanting to move from her comfortable — albeit unladylike — position, but forced herself to get up nonetheless because, well, what if it was important? She stumbled over to the front door, fumbling with the lock before finally getting it open.

When she saw who was standing there, her face split into a wide, lopsided grin, and without warning she flung her arms around Mark Fitzgerald's neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips.

oOo

The Dot was crawling with Degrassi students, most of whom were still in their uniforms, Holly J noticed as soon as she arrived.

She nodded at Spinner who was working the register, and he gave her a small smirk in return. It _still_ made her heart flutter, even though she didn't feel _that way_ about him anymore, and she knew, deep down, that it probably always would. He had forgiven her for not telling him about Jane, at the start of the school year after coming back from his honeymoon, and they were, for the most part, on good terms again, something she couldn't be happier about. Spinner was one of the few people who really understood her.

Peter was doing table runs and taking orders left and right, and out of the corner of her eye, Holly J could see the "Hiring!" sign taped to a nearby window. She considered sending in a résumé and getting her old job back to help her pay for her tuition, but it was a short-lived thought. One job was enough and besides, at least at the Steakhouse, she could get away from all the Degrassi drama, if only for a couple of hours.

… then Baby Edwards had to go and ruin that for her.

"HJ!" Sav's voice called out to her, and Holly J smiled when she spotted him waving her over.

"Been waiting long?" She asked, sharing a brief kiss with him before sitting down.

"Only ten minutes." He replied, handing her her latte.

She smiled apologetically. "I would've been here earlier, but the traffic's crazy today."

Sav shrugged.

"It's fine." He assured her, before arching his brows. "So… Simpson's decided _not_ to cancel our prom after all."

Holly J sighed in relief. "Thank God…"

"But he wants us to have a theme picked soon." Sav continued. "I was thinking _Mafia_."

"Oh, I'm sure the school board will _love_ that." Holly J deadpanned, rolling her eyes. "After the _disaster_ that was Vegas Night, do you really think they're going to agree to anything that could possibly promote violence?"

"Right…" Sav's face fell. "Well, we could always go with…"

The door chimed, and Holly J tuned Sav out when she saw Chantay enter with a few girls from the Power Squad. Anya wasn't with them, but she recognized Marisol and Cindy O'Toole.

"… what about a Masquerade?" Sav went on. "HJ?"

"What?" Holly J asked, then shook her head. "Sorry. Could you hold that thought?"

She didn't wait for Sav to respond. She simply stood up and walked over to the group of girls who sat giggling around their table. She tapped Chantay on the shoulder, cutting her off mid-giggle.

"I need to talk to you." She announced.

"Can it wait?" Chantay asked.

"No."

Chantay shot her an annoyed look, but followed her to a more secluded section. The Power Squad captain folded her arms across her chest and waited impatiently for what Holly J had to say.

"This better be important," she said. "I'm missing out on valuable gossip time."

Holly J narrowed her eyes, but skipped right to the chase.

"Where did you get that picture?" When Chantay tilted her head in confusion, Holly J quickly elaborated. "You know… the one posted on the Anti-Grapevine? The one _everyone_ won't shut up about?"

Chantay's dark eyes lit up with recognition.

"Oh, _that_! Crazy, huh? Who knew Darcy's little sister would ever -"

"Yes, yes, I know." Holly J interrupted, growing more irritated by the second. "But where did you _get_ it?"

Chantay blinked.

"Someone sent it to me." She answered.

"And you have no idea who it was?" Holly J pressed.

The other girl shook her head.

"No clue." She said. "But… why do you care?"

Holly J stared at her, keeping her face impassive.

Why _did_ she care?

It wasn't as if she and Baby Edwards were _friends_ or anything.

"I don't." She said after a while. "I was just curious."

Chantay gave her an odd look before turning around and heading back to her table to join her friends. Holly J sighed, combing her fingers through her hair as she tried to figure out why she was concerned about Clare. Unable to think of a reason, she returned to her own table and resumed her conversation with Sav.

oOo

Fitz froze as soon as Clare's lips met his, not sure how to react.

He'd expected her to glare at him and slam the door in his face, or threaten to get a restraining order if he ever came near her again, but instead she'd _kissed_ him. He was so caught off guard that by the time Clare broke it and he managed to regain his sesnes, she was already pulling him inside and shutting the door.

Then, in a flash, she had him pinned against the wall. She leaned in for a second kiss, but Fitz stopped her, grabbing her shoulders and holding her at arm's length while she struggled to get closer.

"Whoa! What the _fuck_, Clare!"

Clare's nose wrinkled.

"Fitzy, don't swear!" She whined. "It's rude!"

She sounded off. Childlike, almost. It was unsettling and Fitz knew something was wrong. Then he spotted it — the bottle of wine sitting on her coffee table in the living room, and the near-empty glass beside it. His eyes bugged out and he gaped at Clare in disbelief.

"Are you _drunk_?" He cried, releasing her.

A mischievous smile tugged at Clare's lips.

"_Maybe_…" she sang, using the opportunity to loop her arms around his neck and press her body against his. She tried to kiss him but he turned his head and her lips met his jaw line. She seemed satisfied, for the moment, and planted wet kisses from his jaw to his neck.

Fitz swallowed hard, feeling his pants tighten.

"C'mon…" Clare whispered, pulling back. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, and before he knew it, she was dragging him up the stairs and into her bedroom.

He barely had time to take in his surroundings when Clare pounced once more. Using strength he wasn't even aware she had, she pushed him down onto her bed and crawled on top of him, straddling his stomach. Her pleated skirt rose, exposing her milky thighs to him, and Fitz groaned, the image forever stained in his memory. Then Clare's lips were on his, kissing him more deeply than before, her tongue sneaking past his own lips to play with his, and against his better judgement, Fitz lost himself in the moment. As their tongues battled for dominance, his hands — previously gripping her hips — began to explore. They slid up her waist and down her back before coming to rest on her bottom, where he squeezed lightly. Clare let out a surprised squeak, but didn't complain and didn't stop kissing him.

He could taste the wine on her tongue as it massaged his, and ignored the voice in the back of his head advising him to stop — reminding him that Clare wasn't in her right mind, and that he was taking advantage of her.

When they finally parted, Clare's lips were swollen and she licked them before sliding down the length of his body. He sucked in a sharp breath when she brushed against his growing erection, hoping she couldn't feel it — but the shock that registered in her eyes told him she had. He was about to apologize when she smirked suddenly, and rolled her hips. Fitz threw his head back with a moan and Clare hummed triumphantly.

Placing her hands on his chest, she began rocking her hips. A strangled noise erupted from the back of his throat and he gripped her hips tightly, but instead of making her stop like he'd intended, he jerked his hips upward. Clare gasped, and Fitz knew she enjoyed it; he could feel the heat between her thighs. He bucked his hips a few more times, and Clare's pace quickened until she stiffened with a small moan.

He watched her face as she came down from her high, her cheeks rosy and flushed, and plump lips parted ever-so-slightly as she basked in the aftermath of her orgasm.

He was mesmerized.

oOo

"… is it true?"

Adam tore his attention away from the TV to look at his brother. Drew sat on the opposite end of the couch with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, staring at him expectantly. Adam turned away.

"Is what true?" He asked, even though he knew exactly what was on Drew's mind, as it had been on his own all day.

"Your friend," his brother said, and hurriedly corrected himself. "I mean… Alli's friend. Did she really… you know… cheat on Eli with Fitz?"

Adam craned his neck to glance over his shoulder and make sure that their mother wasn't eavesdropping — he could see her in the kitchen, talking to their father on the phone while she prepared dinner. He nodded slowly.

"… yeah." He answered hoarsely.

oOo

She was everywhere, nipping and sucking at his skin while raking her nails down his sides. He found himself drowning in her touch and he wanted more. She was like a drug and he the addict who couldn't get enough of her. He needed his fix, and was so consumed by her that it wasn't until a dainty hand ventured south and began toying with his belt buckle that realization finally hit him, and Fitz broke free from her spell.

"Wait — Clare, stop." He grabbed her wrist, stilling it.

Clare met his gaze, her eyes delirious and clouded with lust.

"Why?" She demanded. "Don't you want me, Mark?"

Fitz looked away, guilty.

Of course he wanted her.

_But…_

"What's the problem?" Clare drawled, and Fitz choked when she cupped him unexpectedly, staring at her in disbelief. She smiled wickedly, releasing him only to push him back and straddle him once again. "It's okay… I want you too."

Fitz shuddered as her warm breath fanned over his ear.

"Yeah?" He said, his voice strained. "Since when?"

"For a while." She replied, and Fitz's eyes widened in shock — mostly from the news, but also by her bluntness. She didn't seem embarrassed or ashamed or anything, really. There was no trace of the Clare he knew, and he wondered just how much she'd had to drink to make her this way — turning her from a shy, Christian goody two-shoes who followed the rules to the _stranger_ in his lap. Clare went on, rocking her hips against his slowly. "You want me, right?"

Fitz closed his eyes, trying to control his body.

"Yes." He said evenly.

"So?" Clare cooed, stroking the nape of his neck. "What are you waiting for? _Take me_. Eli's gone, but you're still here… right? Make me yours. It's what you want, right?" She stopped moving, her voice growing more hysterical. "_Right_? Well, do it! _FUCK ME_!"

Fitz's eyes snapped open, and with a growl he flipped her over, planting a hand on either side of her head.

"Do you even _hear_ yourself, Clare?" He hissed. "You sound like some desperate _slut_."

Clare's eyes watered, but he ignored her and continued. "I'm not going to have sex with you."

"W-what?" Clare croaked. "Why? I thought you wanted me!"

"I do." Fitz answered. "But not like this. You're _drunk_ and besides," he spared a glance at her purity ring.

Clare followed his gaze and made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat before tearing off the ring and throwing it across the room.

"There! See? No ring! No more vow!" She all but screamed, writhing beneath him.

"Clare… what -" Fitz started, but Clare cut him off.

"It means nothing! Everything I know is a lie, so why bother waiting anymore? I want you and you want me, so just -!"

Fitz silenced her by crushing his lips against hers. Clare went still, too stunned to respond, and Fitz pulled away. She'd stopped thrashing; tears had gathered in the corners of her eyes and her bottom lip was starting to quiver. Rolling over so that he was lying next to her, he wrapped an arm around her just as she buried her face in his chest and began to cry.

He held her for what seemed like hours, not entirely sure what else to do.

When she did manage to calm down, it was only when there weren't any tears left to shed.

"No one wants me," she whimpered, laying her head on his shoulder.

"I want you," he murmured, stroking her hair. "Not like this, though."

"I'm so tired…" She said weakly.

"Then go to bed."

"Stay with me. I can't be alone. Not right now."

"… okay. But just this once."

X

**I am so fucking exhausted right now. It's three o'clock in the morning, hence why the ending is so… well, this. I can barely type a coherent sentence right now.**

** I don't know what to say about this other than… I hope you guys enjoyed?**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	28. Space

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Ahh! I'm incredibly sorry for the delay but I've been busy with school, finishing last minute essays and other assignments.

Thank you for being so patient with me, and I hope you enjoy.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Space**_

X

Hours later, Fitz awoke to the sun peering in through the blinds, and promptly threw an arm over his face. It was too late, though. He knew that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, despite how badly he wanted to. With a frustrated groan, Fitz sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes. It wasn't until he opened them, however, that he realized that something was off.

He wasn't in his bed — or his room, for that matter. He was surrounded by unfamiliar pink walls, with a delicious vanilla scent floating through the air instead of the usual pot and leftover pizza. A sudden tug at the comforter drew his attention to the slumbering figure next to him, and it was then that Fitz remembered where he was and what had happened the previous night. Swallowing hard, a quick glance at the alarm clock to his right told him that it was eight in the morning.

He sucked in a deep breath, mentally cursing himself. He hadn't meant to fall asleep there, and he doubted Clare was going to be pleased when she woke up. His pulse raced as panic coursed through him, but he managed to maintain his composure and carefully climb out of bed.

Clare's room was a lot bigger than his, and cleaner too. Not at all like the pigsty he slept in. Various academic awards lined the shelves above her desk, and picture frames hung from the walls. Most were of her, still wearing her glasses and ponytail, standing beside her sister. He hadn't crossed paths with Darcy Edwards personally, but he'd known _of_ her. As he continued to look around, he noticed that there weren't any recent photos — most of them were a year old, if not older.

So absorbed in what he was doing, Fitz didn't even hear the mattress behind him squeak. It wasn't until a high-pitched gasp echoed throughout the room that Fitz finally snapped back to reality and whirled around to find Clare sitting upright, hair dishevelled, staring at him in shock.

"Mark?" She all but cried, "What -"

"I-I was just leaving." Fitz stammered, snatching his shirt from the floor and pulling it over his head.

"Wait!" Clare called out before he could reach the door. "Don't go…"

Fitz hesitated. "It's probably better if I do."

"But… I don't…" When she trailed off, Fitz furrowed his brow and turned to see Clare covering her mouth.

He was about to ask if she was okay when she leapt out of bed and raced past him and into the hallway. He followed her, out of concern, into the upstairs washroom, and found Clare kneeling in front of the toilet, retching. Cringing, Fitz made his way over and crouched next to her, holding her hair back like he'd done for Bianca many times before, while she continued to empty out the contents of her stomach.

Ten minutes later, Clare slowly rose to her feet, head bowed in an attempt to hide her tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Her body shook and she held onto the counter to steady herself, breathing raggedly. Securing an arm around her waist, Fitz helped her walk back to her room and deposited her on the bed, where she curled up into the fetal position.

"I'm sorry," she rasped out.

"Don't be." He said quietly.

"But -"

"Take it easy for the day."

Clare moaned weakly, wrapping her arms around herself and squeezing her eyes shut.

"I feel horrible…" She murmured.

The corner of Fitz's mouth twitched ever-so-slightly. "Hangovers will do that to you."

"My head hurts…"

"Nothing you can really do except sleep on it… and drink lots of water."

When she didn't respond, Fitz peered down at her, only to discover that she had dozed off. He smiled sadly, running his fingers through her soft curls once and then drawing back. He made his way over to her desk and fished through her drawers until he found a small pad of paper and a pen. Scribbling a quick message, he spared one last glance at Clare before heading out the door.

oOo

At around noon, Clare was suddenly jarred from her slumber by the sound of a car door slamming shut.

Untangling herself from her sheets, and trying to ignore the pounding in her skull, she got out of bed to look out the window. She narrowed her eyes when she saw her parents bickering in the driveway. Their voices may have been muffled and almost impossible to understand, but there was no mistaking her mother's flailing arms and scowling face, or her father's cold stance. With an irritated sigh, she stepped away from the window, only to bump into the corner of her desk.

When she glanced down, she was surprised to find a note addressed to her, and picked it up. It was short and just barely legible, but she managed to decipher Fitz's chicken scratch nonetheless.

_**hope you feel better tomorrow**_

_**call me if you need anything**_

_**- Fitz**_

She smiled weakly, but it quickly left as soon as she heard her parents enter the house, still fighting.

"I can't believe you told her!"

"What did you want me to do, Helen? _Lie_?"

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time!"

Clare tuned them out, shuffling around her room. After quickly changing her clothes and fixing her hair, she grabbed her purse and opened the window. Slowly and carefully, she climbed over the ledge and slid down the trellis, just as she had done weeks ago — only this time, Eli wasn't there to catch her. Her heart sank when her feet touched the ground and she didn't feel his arms envelop her, or his breath tickle her ear as he teased her.

Blinking back tears, Clare tried to steer her thoughts away from Eli and what had happened. She began walking along the road, with no particular destination in mind. She only knew that she couldn't stand to be at her house while her parents were fighting. She needed to be with someone who didn't hate her — someone who would listen to her.

She needed to talk to Fitz.

.

.

.

"Got your text," a familiar voice sounded from behind.

Clare glanced over her shoulder, clutching her cell phone tightly in her hand, and smiled weakly at Fitz as he finally arrived and made himself comfortable on the bench across from her. She'd been waiting in the park for almost an hour, with only her thoughts to keep her occupied. She had considered asking him to meet her at the Dot, so that she could get something to eat as well, but didn't want to risk running into Eli or Adam or anyone else they knew. Not yet.

"Did… did your step-dad give you any trouble?" She asked, "For not going home last night?"

Fitz shook his head. "No. He wasn't home." 

She relaxed somewhat. "That's good."

"Clare, we can skip all the bullshit. I know I'm not here to talk about _me_. Just tell me what you want."

Clare's gaze fell to her lap.

"I… I wanted to apologize… for last night…" She told him, "I mean… some of it's a bit foggy, but… I was horrible and I'm sorry."

"What do you remember?" Fitz asked.

"Kissing you…" she murmured, her face growing hot and stomach churning uncomfortably, "… and some other stuff…"

She peered up to find Fitz avoiding her eyes, looking just as guilty as she felt.

"I should be the one who's sorry," he said. "I'm the one who took advantage of you. You were drunk, and I… I'm a sick fuck, Clare. I really am."

Clare flinched unconsciously.

"But… I threw myself at you." She reminded him. "You told me how you felt, and I used it against you. Anyone in your position would've done the same. That doesn't make you a bad person. _I'm_ the horrible one… I was the one who lied to Eli for almost two months. He trusted me, and I just… took him for granted." She could feel her throat tightening, and swallowed hard.

"Clare…"

"I'm such a hypocrite! And now everyone hates me and you know what? I deserve it!" She went on, burying her fingers in her hair. She let out a shallow laugh. "'Saint Clare'… what a joke."

There was a long pause before Fitz spoke.

"I don't."

Clare furrowed her brow in confusion.

"I don't hate you. I could never hate you." Fitz continued, "And… I'm gonna find out who did this. Because it wasn't me, I swear. I don't know who took that picture, but I… I want you to know that I would never hurt you like that." He reached across the picnic table and placed his hand over hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Clare held her breath, and then quickly drew it back. There was a glimpse of hurt in Fitz's eyes, but it disappeared as soon as it came.

"I… I think I need to be alone for a while." She said softly, unable to look at his pained expression.

"Okay," Fitz's voice was strained as he stood up, "… but Clare… I'll be here if you need me…"

Clare nodded, and waited until she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore before releasing the breath she'd been holding and closing her eyes.

"Thank you."

X

**This was a short chapter, but I hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless. Not a lot happened, but I'll try to make up for it in the next one… which features Holly J! And, if I combine the next two chapters (still debating) it'll also have Bianca, Owen, Eli and Adam… so… excitement all around.**

** Anyway, I am super exhausted right now. I had trouble sleeping last night for some reason. I was really hot, but when I didn't have my blankets I was really cold. It was not fun.**

** With that said, hope you enjoyed.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	29. Outcast

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Again, I apologize for the wait, but I've been so busy lately with exams that I haven't had time to work on this chapter until now. I appreciate you being so patient with me, though. It really means a lot and I hope you like this chapter.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Outcast**_

X

The next few days were torture.

That was the only way Clare could describe it. Everywhere she went, eyes and whispers followed her. People would stop and stare, turn to their friends and mutter derogatory slurs when she walked by, and even Jesus Club seemed to want nothing to do with her. She tried her best to ignore them, hoping that if she didn't give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that they were getting to her, that they'd leave her alone and move on to the next school scandal — but neither luck nor God were on her side.

But then, God had stopped listening to her a long time ago.

So lost in her own thoughts, Clare didn't even hear the lunch bell go off until she noticed her classmates rushing to the door. With a sigh, she reluctantly got up and slowly gathered her belongings before making her way out into the crowded hallway. She held her books against her chest like a shield, keeping her head bowed and her eyes on the floor as she made the journey to her locker.

After putting her things away and grabbing her bagged lunch, she continued on, heading straight for the cafeteria.

Upon arriving, she peered around, looking for a place to eat. She spotted Eli and Adam in the far corner, away from everyone else, but they were out of the question. She considered sitting with Connor, Wesley and Dave, but she hadn't talked to any of them since the beginning of first semester, and despite how close she and Connor had been earlier on in their freshman year, she doubted they would be able to pick up where they'd left off; she would just feel out of place. She wasn't even sure what they thought of her after everything that had happened.

Fitz was nowhere to be seen, but sitting with him would've probably been a bad idea anyway.

Just then, her eyes landed on Alli, who was sitting nearby with Jenna. Alli met her gaze and smiled weakly, motioning her over. Clare relaxed; at least _someone_ still accepted her in spite of her mistakes.

She was about to join her best friend when a large body blocked her path.

Owen.

"Excuse me," she muttered, trying to manoeuvre around him.

Again, he got in her way, and it was then that she realized it was intentional.

"Can I get by?" She asked, keeping her voice low so as not to draw any unwanted attention.

The last thing she needed was to make a scene.

Owen grinned, his eyes gleaming. "I don't know. _Can_ you?"

The football players who had been sitting with him chuckled amongst themselves.

"I'm not in the mood for this today. Can you just _move_?" She asked, growing irritated.

Owen's mouth curved upward.

"What's this? _Saint_ _Clare_ is giving me attitude?" He jeered, loud enough to make heads turn. "No wonder Fitz wants to bone you!"

More laughter came from the surrounding tables as people stopped what they were doing to listen in.

"Not just Fitzy, though," Owen went on, grinning lecherously as he stared down at her, "I'm sure every guy in this room wouldn't mind having their way with you. You're like a fantasy; an angel in the day and a devil at night. Bet you're pretty wild in bed, aren't you? Has Fitz loosened you up since the last time you came by the Ravine?"

Clare felt her stomach plummet as what little of her former image she'd managed to preserve crumbled. She wanted nothing more than to flee, but it was as if her feet had become rooted to the floor. She couldn't move. She stood frozen, feeling like the walls around her were closing in, trapping and suffocating her. The entire cafeteria was watching now — including Eli.

What did _he_ think of her? Did he think she was a slut who frequented the Ravine to hook up with his arch enemy behind his back? Did he think Owen was lying? But why would he? She hadn't given him a reason to believe _her_.

Alli looked like she was waiting for an opportunity to jump in. Her dark eyes bore into the back of Owen's head, but the football player didn't appear to notice. He continued to stare down at Clare like a predator who had finally caught his prey. She felt small and weak under his gaze as he eyed her up and down. She shrunk away just Owen's eyes landed on something that made his mouth curl into a sinister smile. When Clare followed his gaze to her hand — her _bare_ _hand_ — her breath hitched and instinctively she went to cover it, but it was already too late. Owen had seen.

A loud, obnoxious laugh erupted from his chest.

"So much for that vow, huh Edwards?" He taunted. "Who'd you spread those pretty little legs for? Fitz? Emo freak? Or some other lucky bastard?"

Clare shook her head.

"I -" She choked, but broke off as murmurs began to spread from table to table.

Excitement filled the atmosphere as her peers greedily absorbed Owen's words, all too eager for more juicy gossip.

Her breathing grew ragged. Her heart hammered against her chest and the room started to spin. Tears burned her eyes and she could taste the acid building in her throat.

"_Shut up_!" She heard Alli bellow, trying to silence the crowd, but her efforts proved to be in vain as the murmurs became louder and louder. Laughter and jeers echoed throughout the cafeteria, piercing Clare like a knife. She took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself.

She needed to get out.

Whirling around, Clare made a mad dash to the exit, almost crashing into Holly J and Sav who'd just walked in. She managed to avoid them in time and threw open the cafeteria doors.

"Clare, wait -!" Alli called out, but Clare didn't stop.

She didn't look back.

She just ran.

oOo

Bianca narrowed her eyes as Owen sat down next to her, wearing a shit-eating grin and looking pleased with himself.

"You didn't have to take it that far." She muttered.

"Yeah, but the look on her face was priceless!" Owen laughed. When he noticed that she wasn't laughing along with him, or even smiling, he stopped. "What? You didn't think it was funny?"

Bianca said nothing, resting her chin on the palm of her hand while she picked away at her lunch, her appetite suddenly lost.

Owen scoffed at her.

"Jeez, what's wrong with you lately? Are you on your period or something? You seem out of it."

"None of your business." Bianca snapped. "I just think you went overboard. What if she kills herself or something? Do you really want _that_ on your conscience for the rest of your life?"

Owen stared at her in disbelief.

"_Whoa_. Overdramatic, much? Saint Clare isn't gonna kill herself. It's like… against her religion or whatever. Besides, why do _you_ care? _I_ don't. I didn't think you did either. I mean, you didn't seem to give a shit when I gave that Tranny freak a piece of my -"

"Shut your fucking face! I didn't _tell_ you to _do_ anything!" Bianca hissed, her eyes darting around wildly to make sure no one had overheard her.

No one had.

They were all too busy talking about Clare.

"I'm outta here." She muttered before Owen could reply, and without another word she stood up and marched out of the cafeteria, leaving a dumbfounded Owen behind.

oOo

The temperature had dropped significantly in the past couple of hours.

That was the first thing Clare noticed as she stepped out onto the roof. The biting chill made her shiver, and she hurriedly buttoned the rest of her school sweater and rubbed her arms, trying to keep warm. The wind whipped her hair around her face, causing strands to stick to her tear-stained cheeks, and goose bumps crawled up her legs as she paced along the gravel covering the roof's surface in a daze.

She didn't feel like a caged animal anymore, drowning in a sea of judging eyes and mocking grins.

She could breathe again.

That was all that mattered.

Nearing the edge of the roof, she swallowed hard. She'd never really liked heights, and felt dizzy gazing down at the ground — but also, strangely, intrigued. It would be _so easy_ to just jump and end everything in an instant. Then she wouldn't have to deal with her parents' divorce, or Darcy's absence, or that within days, she had become a social pariah. This revelation both amazed and terrified her. She was literally less than an inch away from plummeting to her untimely death. In a matter of _seconds_, her life could be snuffed out.

Would she?

No.

Never.

"Taking the coward's way out, Baby Edwards?"

The sound of Holly J's voice jarred Clare from her stupor, and with a gasp she spun around.

"I wasn't… I was just…" Clare stammered, eyes wide as Holly J made her way over. Biting her lip, she glanced off to the side. "I just needed some air…"

Holly J quirked an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest and giving Clare a sceptical look.

"… I might actually believe you if you weren't so close to the edge."

Clare peered over her shoulder, noticing how close she still was to the edge of the roof. One wrong move and…

She shook her head and took a few steps forward until she was standing in front of Holly J.

"You know you could get suspended for being up here, right?" The older girl mused.

"Then why are you up here?" Clare countered.

Holly J turned away from her, staring off into the distance. "Sav's in the cafeteria right now, trying to calm everyone down. I followed you to make sure you wouldn't do anything stupid like — oh, say, jump off a roof."

Clare frowned. "I told you, I wasn't -"

"What happened just now shouldn't have happened." Holly J went on. "In any case… I heard about the mess that you got into."

Clare barked out a laugh.

"Oh? What did you hear? The part about me being a two-timing whore?"

Holly J winced, clearly taken aback by the younger girl's harsh tone.

"Something like that," she said with a grimace. "But… I just want you to know that _I_ know you're not any of those things. And… if you ever want to talk… I could always lend an ear."

Clare shot her an incredulous look.

"Didn't you see the picture?"

"Unfortunately." Holly J deadpanned. "But, _unlike_ the rest of these idiots, I knew what was going on, remember?"

Clare shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I kissed him back, Holly J." She whispered. "For a split second, I forgot about Eli and I kissed Fitz _back_. _Everyone_ is right about me — I'm a horrible person! I ruined my relationship with Eli. I lied to him, Holly J. For almost two months, I lied to him about everything, and I let Fitz in. And I knew about Fitz too… I knew he liked me and I took advantage of that — I _threw_ myself at him the other night. I practically begged him to have sex with me!"

Holly J's eyebrows shot up in surprise, threatening to disappear into her hairline.

"I didn't mean to… I just wanted to help him…" Clare continued, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Then I started having all these dreams about Fitz, and… now I'm so confused…"

Holly J sighed, combing her fingers through her hair before taking a step forward and wrapping her arms awkwardly around Clare. Clare stiffened in shock, but made no move to pull away, and instead buried her face in Holly J's shoulder and let out a choked sob.

"You're not a bad person," Holly J assured her, rubbing her back. "You made some mistakes, but that doesn't make you a bad person. It makes you a teenager. It makes you _human_." The wind was starting to pick up, and Holly J's hold on her tightened some before she drew back, placing her hands on Clare's shoulders and giving her a wry smile. "Come on, let's get you inside."

X

**I **_**was**_** going to add two more scenes, but I'll leave those for chapter 30.**

** In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed **_**this**_** one.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	30. Secret's Out

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: So, I'm finally done my exams, and now I can get back to updating this weekly. But guess what? It's almost done. Only a few more chapters to go before this baby's complete. It's my longest fic yet, and I really appreciate all of the amazing feedback that you guys have given. Thank you so much for being patient and sticking by it.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Secret's Out**_

X

_"I… I think I need to be alone for a while."_

Clare's words echoed in the back of his mind like a record that kept skipping and replaying the same thing over and over again.

It hurt that she didn't want to be around him. It pained him to see her in the halls and not be able to talk to her, but if it made her happy, then he had no choice but to oblige. She looked so sad though, every time they crossed paths. The light in her eyes was gone; it was like she was broken, and Fitz wanted so desperately to comfort her and be her shoulder to cry on… but that would only cause her more grief, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Damn.

What the hell happened to him?

The sound of a door chiming drew Fitz out of his reverie, and when he looked up he noticed that he was standing in front of the Dot. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he dug around for spare change and went inside. It had been a while since he'd been there, and his mouth watered as he snuck a peek at a nearby menu and saw a picture of a caramel latte.

He approached the cash register where he instantly recognized the guy working behind the counter. He'd seen him hanging around Degrassi a few times.

"Can I help you?"

Fitz blinked, once again jarred from his stupor unexpectedly, and nodded slowly.

"Yeah, uh… how much is a caramel latte?" He asked.

"Five bucks."

Fitz hurriedly fished out some more coins before dropping them on the counter, where the guy — "Spinner" his nametag read — scooped it up and then began making his latte. As his back was turned, Fitz glanced around, his eyes soon zeroing in on the sign taped to the window.

The Dot was hiring.

"Here you go," Spinner's voice drew Fitz's attention back to him, and Fitz nodded at him in thanks.

He was about to leave with his latte when a thought struck him, and he quickly whipped back around.

"Are you guys still hiring?" He blurted out.

"Yeah…" Spinner answered slowly, "Why? You interested?"

"Yes." Fitz replied.

"Got a resume?"

"… no."

Spinner chuckled, picking up a cloth and scrubbing the countertop.

"Well, how badly do you need a job?" He asked.

"Pretty badly." Fitz muttered honestly, thinking back to his mother and how she was juggling three jobs just to keep up with the rent. Getting a job would mean he could help her. It also meant an excuse to be out of the house and away from Phil.

There was a pregnant pause before Spinner spoke.

"Alright, how about this," he said, leaning forward. "Come back tomorrow with a resume, and I'll talk to the manager about getting you an interview. Deal?"

He held out his hand, and that's when a glimmer caught Fitz's eye. A wedding band. He arched his brows in surprise. He was _married_? Dude was like twenty, and he was already married? Quickly getting over his initial shock, Fitz grasped Spinner's hand and shook it.

"Deal." He said. "Thanks."

"No problem. See you tomorrow."

Fitz felt the corner of his mouth twitch, and grabbed his latte. Just as he was making his way out the door, however, his body crashed into someone else's. Stumbling back, he managed to regain his balance and save his latte — unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for the other person, who landed on the sidewalk with a yelp. When he looked down, Fitz was surprised to see that it was Bianca.

His first instinct was to laugh, but the icy glare she threw his way stopped him. When he offered her his hand, she simply swatted it away, groaning as she picked herself up.

After adjusting her clothes, Bianca fixed another glare on him. Fitz braced himself, waiting for her to chew him out, but as soon as she opened her mouth, she froze. In a span of five seconds, her expression went from angry to conflicted. Dark eyes darted around wildly and teeth gnawed anxiously at glossy lips, and just as Fitz was about to voice his concern, Bianca's sharp nails were suddenly digging into his arm and she was dragging him into the alley behind the Dot.

"I can't do this anymore," she kept muttering, more so to herself than him.

When they reached an area by a dumpster, she finally stopped and rounded on him. Fitz started, slowly backing away from her.

"… you're not gonna kiss me, are you? 'Cause… no offence, Bee, you're hot… but you're like a sister."

Bianca promptly scoffed.

"Don't flatter yourself." She sneered. "As if I would ever kiss _you_."

He relaxed a little.

"Oh… that's good…" he said, before furrowing his brow. "Then why'd you drag me back here?"

Bianca sighed, folding her arms across her chest and pressing her lips into a thin line.

After another minute of deliberation, she lifted her gaze to meet his.

"Owen was the one who took that picture of you and Saint Clare."

X

**Super, super short chapter… originally going to be much longer, but… I decided to change that. I need to figure out how I'm going to piece together everything, and right now I'm just too tired, but I didn't want to keep you waiting so… yeah.**

** But hey! Looks like Bianca has a conscience!**

** And I added Spinner for good measure because… I fucking love Spinner. Also, I liked the idea of Fitz working at the Dot. Not big on him being a Jesus freak though. Anyway… the culprit has been revealed! Although I'm sure many of you already knew who it was. Hmm… wonder what Fitz is gonna do next…**

** Sorry for such a short chapter. I hope you guys still enjoyed. **

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	31. Severed Ties

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Only a few more chapters to go before this is officially completed.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Severed Ties**_

X

She dreaded English.

It used to be her favorite subject, but now, not so much. That wasn't to say that she didn't still love reading and analyzing literature, because she did, and she always would — but it was being in the same class as Eli that was making it hard.

Was it not enough that Clare could hear her classmates whispering about her whenever Ms. Dawes had her back turned? However, _that_ she could ignore, if she really, really tried. But she couldn't ignore the pitying glances that Adam threw her way when he thought she wasn't looking — or the dark-haired boy sitting in front of her and pretending that she didn't exist. Clare reminisced about earlier that year, when he'd given her the cold shoulder during their "Romeo and Juliet" assignment. Her heart fluttered a little before she felt a sharp twinge, remembering that this time, Eli really hated her, and she had no one to blame but herself.

She had lied to him; she had gone behind his back, and with his worst enemy of all people. Fitz might have initiated the kiss, but she let him, and even before that, her mind and body had already betrayed Eli.

Why had she volunteered to tutor Fitz? Why had she listened in on Mr. Simpson and Abby's conversation that day? If she had simply minded her own business, Fitz wouldn't be back at Degrassi. He wouldn't be a part of her life, her feelings for Eli wouldn't have been compromised, and she and Eli would still be together. Everything would be perfect — but no. She just _had_ to help Fitz, and get to know him, and jeopardize her relationship with Eli. She had been naïve to think that it wouldn't have backfired eventually, and now she was paying the price.

Her reputation was tarnished, and Eli was never going to speak to her again.

Still… she wished she could make things right. She couldn't stand the thought of not having Eli or Adam in her life, even if Eli was just a friend.

How utterly selfish, she mused.

What right did she have to feel that way? She didn't deserve Eli's love, much less his _friendship_, after what she'd done.

She deserved to be alone.

She —

The shrill, ringing sound jarred Clare from her thoughts, and she glanced over just as Ms. Dawes excused herself, picked up the class telephone and stepped out of the class. She closed the door behind her, leaving only a crack, and the entire class seized the opportunity to strike up conversations with their friends. Taking a deep breath and mustering what little courage she had, Clare leaned forward and tapped Eli on the shoulder.

She had to make things right.

She _had_ to.

"Eli," she whispered, "can we talk?"

Eli craned his neck ever so slightly, but refused to look at her.

"I have nothing to say to you." He answered coolly.

"Eli, please… I'm _sorry_, okay? I never meant to hurt you." She told him.

"Yeah, well, you _did_." He said bitterly.

"Can't we just start over?" She asked softly. "I want to be with you, Eli. I always have."

Eli made a noise that sounded almost like a laugh, but not quite. "Probably should've thought about that before you decided to hook up with Fitz behind my back."

Clare gripped the edge of her desk tightly, trying to keep her anger under control.

"I did _not_ hook up with Fitz!" She hissed. "_He_ kissed _me_, and it was one time, and I regret it, and I'm _sorry_. What else do you want me to say?"

"Nothing, okay Clare?" Eli snapped. "Just don't say anything, because for all I know, it's a lie — like our whole relationship, apparently."

"Eli -"

Before she could continue, Ms. Dawes re-entered the classroom.

"Clare," she said, putting the phone back on the receiver. "Mister Simpson wants to see you in his office."

Snickers erupted throughout the class — along with an "Uh, oh! What'd _Saint Clare_ do _this_ time?" Adam and Eli were the only exceptions, with Adam glaring all around, and Eli remaining completely still.

Nodding frantically, Clare rushed out of the classroom and into the hall, desperate to get away from her peers' laughter and mocking grins.

_Oh, how the mighty have fallen._

When she arrived at Mr. Simpson's office, she was surprised to see that Holly J was also there, sitting across from him. She frowned, shutting the door with a soft click and taking a seat next to the redhead, who shrugged and smiled as if she too had no idea why they were there.

Mr. Simpson cleared his throat. "I'm sure you're wondering why I called you down here."

Clare exchanged confused glances with Holly J, before the older teen turned back to face their principal.

"Uhh… Sir? Are we in trouble?" She asked slowly.

When Mr. Simpson sighed and pressed his lips into a thin line, Clare panicked.

They _were_.

But why?

Then, as if reading her mind, Mr. Simpson answered. "Video surveillance shows you two on the roof yesterday at lunch." He said seriously. "Now, you two are some of my brightest students… _but_, being gifted academically does _not_ excuse this blatant disregard of the rules. You _know_ that the roof is off limits to students!" He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to remain calm. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to suspend you -"

"Sir!" Holly J cried, jumping to her feet. "You can't do this!"

"I _have_ to," said Mr. Simpson. "If I let this slide, then I'll have to do the same for everyone else who breaks the rules."

"But -" Holly J broke off, the color draining from her face as she ran her fingers through her hair, obviously troubled.

"Sir, it's my fault!" Clare blurted out as she stood up as well. "I went up to the roof — Holly J only followed me because she was worried."

Mr. Simpson furrowed his brow, then looked at Holly J. "Is this true?"

"I…" Holly J's eyes darted back and forth between Clare and Mr. Simpson, clearly torn. Then her shoulders slumped and she hung her head. "Yes, Sir."

Mr. Simpson took a deep breath and massaged his temples, deep in thought. After about a minute or so, he spoke again. "Okay. I'm going to give you detention for now, but one more rule broken and your next punishment will be a lot more severe. Do I make myself clear, Holly J?"

"Yes, Sir." Holly J repeated.

"Good. You can go now — Clare, stay."

Clare sat back down while Holly J thanked him quietly, sparing Clare one last glance before exiting the office. When she was gone, Mr. Simpson turned to Clare.

"What were you doing on the roof, Clare?" He asked. His expression was stern, but there was a hint of concern in his voice that did not go unnoticed by her — and then she remembered Darcy, and her stomach dropped. Mr. Simpson must have realized the same thing, for his eyes went as wide as saucers. "You weren't going to -"

"No!" She cried, catching onto his implication. "I wasn't going to jump — I _swear_! I'm not suicidal! I'm not -!" _Darcy_. Clare bit her lip, fisting the material of her khaki skirt as she tried to erase the images of her sister — her beautiful, _broken_ sister, lying in a hospital bed after hurting herself — from her head. She held her breath, blinking back tears, and swallowed the lump in her throat. Once she regained her composure, she went on. "I just… a lot has happened and I just needed some air… to be alone for a while. To… to get away from everything." Her gaze dropped to her lap, and then flickered up as her insides began to twist and churn. "I'm not suspended, am I?"

"… no," said Mr. Simpson softly, after a moment of silent deliberation. "But… I think you should take the rest of the day off. You're clearly under too much stress, so… call your parents and have them come pick you up. I'll inform your other teachers about your absence. When you get back, I want you to make an appointment with Ms. Sauvé."

Clare opened her mouth to protest — to tell Mr. Simpson that she was _fine_; that she didn't need to go home and that she didn't need to talk to anyone - that she was capable of handling her own problems — but words failed her. So she gave a defeated sigh, and nodded slowly in response.

"Yes, Sir."

oOo

Red.

That was all Fitz saw as he entered the Ravine with Bianca tailing behind him.

"What are you going to do, Fitz?" She kept asking, but he was far too pissed off to answer her.

There was only a few people there, sitting around the bonfire, since it was still so early in the afternoon. As Fitz's gaze zeroed in on one figure in particular, flirting with some girl, an uncontrollable rage consumed him. With a growl, he clenched his fists and stormed over, while Bianca tried in vain to calm him down.

"Don't do anything stupid!" She hissed, but he ignored her.

"Hey!" He shouted, prompting Owen to look up.

A wide grin spread across the football player's face.

"S'up, Fitzy? Bee?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Fitz spat, grabbing him by the collar of his jersey and hauling him to his feet.

"Dude!" Owen cried. "What the hell!"

Fitz slammed him against a nearby tree. "You asshole! You were the one who took that picture!"

Owen shot an accusing glance at Bianca. "You _told_ him?"

"So it's true?" Fitz barked. When Owen didn't say anything, Fitz's grip on his collar tightened. "Answer me!"

Owen's eyes flashed dangerously, before his lips curled into a sinister smile.

"Yeah, I took that picture." He admitted casually. "I happened to be in the neighbourhood, visiting one of my football buddies… that's when I saw you two, sucking face on her porch, and thought to myself, 'Why not give them a push in the right direction?'" He reached up and pried Fitz's hands from his shirt. "I thought you'd be happy, man. I was helping you out — you should be _thanking_ me."

"_Thanking_ you?" Fitz repeated disbelievingly. "Clare's miserable because of you!"

"But now that she and that emo freak have split, she's free game." Owen replied. "Don't you get it? She's yours for the picking, Fitzy. You've always wanted to pop her cherry — well, here's your chance."

Bianca made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. Fitz, in the meantime, glared venomously at Owen.

Then, without warning, his fist collided with Owen's face.

Bianca shrieked as the larger teen doubled over in pain, clutching his nose and swearing loudly while Fitz turned around and began to walk away.

"This isn't over!" He heard Owen calling after him, but neither Fitz nor Bianca looked back as they left the Ravine.

X

**… and that's the end of chapter 31. I feel kind of so-so about it, particularly the last scene which sounded way better in my head… but I don't hate it. I hope you guys enjoyed.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	32. Collide

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews!

Also, to a certain Anon… I did not spell "neighbourhood" wrong. With or without the "u" it's still correct.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Collide**_

X

The ride home had been a quiet and tense one, and for the second time that week, Clare found herself sitting before her parents. Staring down at her lap, she waited for them to say something, but neither spoke — at least not to _her_. Rather, they glared coldly at one another, as though silently blaming the other for why she had been sent home. Her mother's posture was stiff and she kept her arms crossed, while her father simply looked worn out and irritated, like he couldn't stand being in the same room as the older woman.

After a couple of minutes, her mother tore her gaze away from him and rounded on _her_ instead.

"Well?" She demanded. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Nothing," muttered Clare.

Helen's nostrils flared. Shaking her head angrily, she turned to her soon-to-be ex-husband. "Randall, talk to her!"

Randall shot her a cold look before glancing down at his daughter. In an instant, his expression softened.

"Clare Bear," he said gently, crouching in front of her. "Your mother and I… we're just worried about you. You haven't been yourself lately. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Clare repeated. "School's just been stressful. That's all."

"Are you sure?" Randall prodded. "Clare, if something's bothering you, you need to tell us so we can help fix it."

"Everything's fine, Daddy." Clare assured him.

Randall clearly didn't buy into her lie, but he didn't continue to press her for answers either.

"Okay," he said, patting her knee and standing up.

"_Okay_?" Helen spat acidly. "That's it? Randall, you're letting her walk all over you!" She let out a bitter laugh, combing her fingers through her hair. "Unbelievable. You know, maybe if you were around more often -"

"Helen, don't start this again…"

"You just let her do whatever she wants!" Helen cried. "No wonder she's acting like this! Before you know it, she's going to be skipping class to get high, and you know who's fault that will be? _Yours_!"

Clare's nails dug into her palms as she tried to blink back tears and swallow the lump in her throat. Did her mother really think that lowly of her? Then she thought back to when she'd hung out with Bianca, and when she'd thrown herself at Fitz.

"Maybe if you took some initiative and acted like a responsible parent, Clare wouldn't be heading down that path!" Her mother went on.

Before her father could retort, Clare was on her feet, glaring daggers at her mother.

"Oh, you're one to talk!" She snapped, drawing both her parents' attention away from each other and back to her. "Do you know how many times I've come home to find you passed out _drunk_ on the couch? Yeah, real responsible, Mom. What, did you think I wouldn't notice the wine bottle in front of you? I'm not stupid!"

Helen gaped at her, her face a mixture of outrage and shock from having not only been caught in the act, but called out on it by her own daughter. Meanwhile, Randall's eyes hardened, and it became painfully evident to Clare that he'd had no idea. Her mother had managed to successfully hide her drinking from him.

"What?" His voice was cold and sent chills down Clare's spine.

Helen scoffed.

"Don't give me that look, Randall." She sneered, "Unlike you, I've been doing everything to keep this family together. _Excuse me_ for needing a drink every now and then." She glanced over at her daughter. "Clare, listen to me. I know you're upset about this divorce, but that doesn't excuse your recent behavior -"

"What about the fighting?" Clare countered, cutting her off. "All you do is scream at each other! You're not even trying to get along!"

"Clare -" her father began.

"Don't." Clare said shakily. "Don't try to justify it!"

"Clare, please… calm down…" Randall begged softly, reaching over to place a comforting hand on her shoulder — but Clare smacked it away angrily.

"We're not done talking to you, young lady!" Her mother screeched, as Clare brushed past them and began to head towards her room.

Unfortunately, she hadn't anticipated her mother following her up the stairs, and before Clare could get inside and lock the door, Helen grabbed her wrist and brought her to an abrupt halt. Clare clenched her teeth, trying to pry her hand away, but her mother's grip only tightened. Reluctantly, she gave up, and waited to be scolded, but just as Helen opened her mouth to do just that, her gaze dropped to Clare's hand. When Clare followed her gaze, she drew in a sharp breath, her eyes widening.

"Clare Diane Edwards," her mother's voice was eerily calm. "Where is your ring?"

"I… I don't have it…" Clare whispered, suddenly feeling quite small under her mother's icy stare. "I took it off…"

She remembered tearing it off when Fitz rejected her advances, trying to prove a point to him.

It had completely slipped her mind.

"Not you too…" Helen released Clare's wrist and slowly backed away.

"Mom…"

"I thought we taught you better!" Her mother spat, pinning Clare with a sharp glare. "I did not raise you to be the kind of girl who spreads her legs for any boy!"

Clare bottom lip quivered.

"Mom, I didn't…" She started, taking a step forward. "I swear, I -"

Before she could finish her sentence, however, her mother's hand met her cheek and a loud _**CRACK**_ echoed throughout the upstairs hallway. Almost immediately, Helen covered her mouth, horrified by her own actions, but the damage was already done. A choked sob bubbled from Clare's lips as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

"Clare… my baby girl… I…" Helen stammered, as a pair of loud footsteps drew closer and Randall emerged behind her.

"What happened?" He demanded, looking terrified as he glanced between them.

Clare merely shook her head, clutching the side of her face and letting out a whimper before making a beeline for her bedroom and locking the door behind her.

.

.

.

She didn't know how long she stayed in her room, listening to her parents shouting at each other just outside her door. At some point, her mother tried to apologize to her, begging Clare to let her in, but Clare refused to move. She stayed curled up on her bed, hugging her pillow, until the knocking stopped. She didn't leave that spot until she heard her phone buzz two hours later. Only then did she finally get up, and discovered a text from Alli.

_**y werent u in chem? r u sick?**_

Clare smiled weakly.

At least there was still _someone_ who didn't hate her guts.

_**'Can I spend the night at your house? I'll explain everything then.'**_ She typed back, before sending.

A few minutes later, Alli responded.

_**sure. c u soon.**_

oOo

He waited anxiously at the bar, glancing at the door nearby and fidgeting uncontrollably.

He had handed in his application and after a surprisingly short interview with the manager, both the manager and Spinner had disappeared into the former's office. It had been almost twenty minutes since, and Fitz was becoming nervous. Did he bomb the interview? Did he get the job? To pass the time, he watched Peter Stone wander from table to table, taking orders.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the office door opened and Spinner emerged, completely stone-faced as he made his way over. Fitz immediately stood up.

"Well?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even.

A wide grin spread across Spinner's face.

"You're in." He said simply. "You start work tomorrow."

Fitz blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah!" Spinner laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Wow… thanks, man," said Fitz, still in awe.

"No problem. Now, if you'll excuse me, there are customers to attend to…"

Fitz watched Spinner's retreating back before heading out the door.

He couldn't wait to tell his mom the good news.

X

**My wrist is killing me… I've been writing non-stop for the past two days…**

** Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Only two more to go. I was going to end this one on a cliffhanger, but I think this story has had enough of those, haha.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	33. Red

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Red**_

X

She decided to bring only what would fit into her backpack — an extra set of clothes, her laptop and textbooks, and some toiletries. She still wasn't sure how long she would be staying with Alli, or how long she would be _allowed_ to, but she'd cross that bridge when she got there. All she knew was that anywhere was better than being under the same roof as her mother. With that in mind, Clare quickly finished packing all of her essentials, grabbed her purse and opened her window before climbing down the trellis.

Alli's house wasn't too far from hers. It would probably take her only about twenty minutes to walk there. She paused briefly, and considered riding her bike, but then remembered that her dad had already stored it in the shed for the winter. Not wanting to stick around any longer than she needed to, Clare spared one last glance at her bedroom window before taking off down the road.

It wasn't long before she reached a familiar intersection, and knew that she was close to Alli's. As she passed the Dot, her stomach growled, but she ignored it and kept walking.

Turning a corner, she was about to take a shortcut through an alley, only to come to an abrupt halt.

There, standing just a few feet from her, was Owen Milligan.

He wasn't alone. He was surrounded by three other boys from the football team, and they were all laughing obnoxiously as she stood frozen, like a deer caught in the headlights, holding her breath and praying to _God_ that they didn't notice her. She began to back away slowly, trying not to alert their attention — but wasn't looking behind her, and before she could register what was happening, she knocked over a trash can.

Immediately, all eyes were on her.

"Hey, look who it is!" One boy cried delightedly. "_Saint Clare_!"

"Haven't you heard, Tyler? She's not so _saintly_ anymore." A second boy sneered.

"Wandering around by yourself, so close to dark… not very smart of you, is it?" Another chimed in.

Clare didn't say a word — only glared at them as they drew closer, circling her like a pack of wolves. Owen, oddly enough, didn't participate. He stood off to the side, watching intently.

"So, was Fitz any good in bed?" The second boy asked. "I bet I could do better."

She clenched her fists angrily, and gritted out, "Yeah, well, you'll never get a chance to find out."

The other two boys cackled at the second's expense. He scowled at her before glancing over at Owen.

"Did you hear what she said, man?"

"So?" Owen shrugged carelessly.

Clare furrowed her brow, trying to make sense of his behaviour.

Two days ago, he had mocked her in front of the entire cafeteria. Why wasn't he seizing the opportunity to harass her like his friends?

Their eyes met for a split second, making Clare's heart stop. Then Owen's mouth curved upward, and he sauntered over, draping his arms over his friends' shoulders.

"Listen, why don't you guys go on ahead? Clare and I have some… catching up to do. Don't we, Clare?" He drawled, looking directly at her.

Clare pursed her lips together, holding her tongue and watching as the three teenagers surrounding her exchanged confused glances, before shrugging and wandering off. Soon it was just her and Owen left. Her gut tightened, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She didn't feel any less uncomfortable than she did before, and as Owen stepped closer, she noticed that his nose was more swollen than usual.

She frowned.

"What do you want?" She asked, eyeing him cautiously.

There was no way she was going to let her guard down around him.

"Nothing." Owen replied innocently, holding up his hands in defense — but it didn't take a genius to tell that he was lying through his teeth.

He was up to something. Every fibre of her being told her that, and Clare didn't want to stick around long enough to find out.

"Well, thanks." She said tightly. "I'll see you at school."

"But you just got here!" Owen protested, stepping in front of her.

Clare sighed irritably.

"I don't have time for this. _Move_." She ordered.

She was already later than she wanted to be — Alli was probably wondering why she hadn't shown up yet — and her patience for Owen's antics was thinning. When he failed to budge, however, she narrowed her eyes dangerously and attempted to manoeuvre around him, but just like that day in the cafeteria, Owen blocked her path effortlessly.

"Come on, Saint Clare… I thought we were having fun!"

"_Don't_ call me that." She spat.

There had once been a time when "Saint Clare" had been nothing more than a mild annoyance, and in some cases an endearing nickname, but hearing it from Owen made her feel dirty and violated, and she didn't like it.

Owen chuckled darkly.

"You know, I never got why Fitz liked you so much…"

As he spoke, Clare started to back away from him, growing more and more uncomfortable by his demeanour. She was fully prepared to flee in the opposite direction when her back suddenly met a brick wall instead. She stiffened, realizing she had trapped herself, and peered around desperately for an escape — only to be caged between Owen's large body and the wall behind her within seconds.

"You're not that hot… you don't put out… so what's the appeal?" He went on. "But I think I'm starting to understand. You're pretty feisty, and I'm not gonna lie — that's a huge turn on. And your _rack_…" his lecherous gaze dropped from her face to her chest and lingered there, making Clare nauseous. Licking his lips hungrily, he continued, "Why cover those gems up? Take a note from Bee's book and flaunt 'em. I guarantee you'll have guys lining up just _begging_ to fuck you. You just need to loosen up and…" his eyes flickered up once more, "I'd be glad to help you with that."

Clare's stomach churned. She gripped her purse tightly, too disgusted and outraged to form a coherent response.

Owen smirked, reaching up to stroke her face. She immediately recoiled, turning her head in a feeble attempt to escape his touch.

He sighed, rolling his eyes and dropping his hand.

"I don't know what you did, but Fitz is like a complete stranger now. I don't even know him anymore. He's changed."

"Maybe he got tired of hanging out with a pig like you." Clare quipped.

Owen grunted, scowling down at her in indignation. Then, in the blink of an eye, his expression changed and a sinister smile spread across his lips.

"I wonder if he'd still like you so much if you were sloppy seconds."

Clare's eyes widened at his implication, which only seemed the fuel Owen's perverse mind. When she felt his fingers graze her arm, she held her breath, refusing to show him even a hint of fear — unfortunately, it did nothing to deter him, and before she knew it, he was cupping the back of her neck and forcing her to look at him. Panic coursed through her veins and she clutched her purse even tighter before Owen leaned closer, pressing his mouth against the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Her breath hitched; her whole body shook, and in a fit of desperation, she forced her hand into her purse and started to rummage, searching for something — perfume, a pencil, keys — _anything_ that she could use to fend him off with.

She tensed when his hands tugged at the hem of her shirt, sliding under and touching her stomach, before continuing the journey up. As his calloused fingers neared her bra, her own fingertips grazed something cold, buried at the bottom of her purse.

And she knew exactly what it was.

oOo

"You've gotta be kidding me…" Fitz muttered to himself as he exited the Dot for the second time.

As luck would have it, he had gotten about halfway to the bus stop when he realized he'd forgotten his wallet and had to run back. Fortunately, Spinner had kept watch over it while he was gone, and when Fitz returned, he'd held it up and grinned knowingly. After awkwardly thanking him, Fitz left in a hurry, determined not to miss his bus.

He had just made it to the intersection when he spotted two figures across the street, sitting on the curb outside an old bookstore. He recognized them instantly, but squinted to make sure that his eyes weren't simply playing tricks on him. But there was no mistaking the hearse parked a few feet away from them — it was definitely Eli and Adam.

The light changed, but instead of continuing on to the bus stop, Fitz made his way over to the two teenagers he'd once made miserable for kicks.

"Hey!"

Both boys glanced up from their comics in unison, and upon seeing him, immediately scowled.

"Come on, Eli. Let's go." Adam said, rising to his feet while glaring daggers at Fitz.

Eli was about to follow his lead when Fitz stopped him.

"Wait! Can we just… talk?" He asked.

Eli snorted and, much to Adam's obvious dismay, responded. "Why? So you can brag about how you stole Clare from me?"

Fitz rolled his eyes.

"Believe me, emo boy, I would like nothing more than to rub it in your face that I was her first and she loved every second of it. But that would be a lie." Eli's brows knitted together in confusion, but he made no move to leave. Fitz seized the opportunity to go on, "Truth is… Clare offered to help tutor me and we became friends. I like her a lot, but believe me when I say that she was nothing but loyal to you." Eli opened his mouth to protest, but Fitz quickly cut him off. "We kissed… actually, _I_ kissed _her_, and she pushed me away. Because she's in love with you."

He hated admitting that, but he couldn't stand to see Clare sad and if being with _Eli_ made her happy, then…

"Why are you telling me this?" Eli asked.

"I'm not sorry for what I did, but I am sorry for hurting her." Fitz replied, glancing down. "I made a huge mess of things -"

"Well, that's the understatement of the year." Adam muttered.

"- and I don't know how to fix it." Fitz finished. He took a deep breath, stuffing his hands into his pockets and shrugging. "That's basically all I wanted to say. See you around."

Eli opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, an ear-piercing cry ripped through the air.

oOo

Clare's heart hammered against her chest as Owen's rough hands roamed all over her body. She felt pathetic and weak, reduced to nothing but whimpers as she tried desperately to formulate a plan in her head. The longer it took, however, the closer she came to becoming like Darcy in the worst way possible. But it was hard to concentrate when her thoughts were jumbled, threatening to cloud her judgement. Owen wasn't someone she could simply shove off. He was twice her size and there was no way she could actually fight him; she doubted even a swift kick to the groin would do much damage.

As fear began to consume her, she thought about the weapon at her disposal, just resting under her fingertips. She wasn't sure if she could use it, though — not on another human being, even if it was Owen.

What if something went wrong?

Did it matter?

Something was already going wrong and it was only going to get worse if she didn't stop it.

No one was going to come to her rescue.

She had to be her own hero.

"You're so tense. Just relax…" Owen said, cupping her right breast and massaging it through her blouse. "I promise it'll only hurt for a few seconds."

As his other hand found the button of her jeans, Clare's breathing grew more shallow. Squeezing her eyes shut, her fingers curled around the hilt of Fitz's knife, and before Owen could even react, it was out.

Her purse hit the ground, but she paid no heed to it. She was too busy pointing it at Owen, who had managed to jump out of the way as soon as he saw it.

"What the hell?" He reached out to grab the knife, but out of reflex, Clare swung and the blade nicked his arm. Owen swore loudly, clamping his hand over he wound and glaring at her. "You crazy bitch! Do you even know what you're doing with that thing?"

"Don't come any closer!" Clare warned, when he attempted to do just that.

Owen faltered, eyes darting between the switchblade in her trembling grasp and her fear-stricken face.

He smirked.

"What are you gonna do? Stab me?" He sneered, taking a bold step towards her. "You don't have the guts to do that."

As the distance between them shrunk with each self-assured step that Owen took, Clare's grip tightened.

"Little girls shouldn't play with knives. It's dangerous." He said, his voice oozing with condescension.

"I'm not playing around." She growled. "And if you take one more step…"

Owen's eyes gleamed wickedly, and to spite her, he took another step.

Maybe it was the way he was patronizing her.

Maybe it was the way he leered at her, smirking because he _knew_ she wasn't going to do anything

Or maybe it was because of what he'd done earlier — not just to her, but to her friends as well.

Whatever it was, something inside her snapped.

She lunged at him with a sharp cry, much to Owen's surprise. His eyes went wide and he tried to move out of the way, only to stumble over the same trash can she had earlier and end up on the ground. Clare leapt on him, the blade inches away from his face. Owen's grip on her wrist was the only thing keeping her from making contact, but the look of absolute _terror_ in his eyes excited her in a way nothing else had before. The tables had finally turned, and Clare felt exhilarated and powerful.

She grinned, pushing her fist down and bringing the tip of the blade even closer to Owen's face.

Just as it was about to pierce his skin, however, a voice called out to her.

"CLARE!"

She craned her neck to peer over her shoulder, and froze when she saw Eli standing in the alley's entrance with Adam and Fitz.

"What the hell?" Adam cried, while Eli raced over.

"Clare, what -" he broke off, glancing between her and Owen and the knife poised in her hand. He paled, recognizing the latter instantly, and made a croaking noise in the back of his throat.

In the background, he could hear Adam on the phone with someone.

"What are you doing?" Fitz snapped, coming up behind them.

He hoisted Clare to her feet and glared down at Owen.

"Do you want this one?" He asked Eli, who had snapped back and was now glaring at the football player as well.

Eli's lips curled.

"Do you even need to ask?"

X

**And that's the end of this chapter. Two more to go. I know I said that last time, but… I've decided that there will be a total of 35 chapters instead of 34. The final one will be kind of like an epilogue. **_**Kind of**_**. And probably very short.**

** Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. I'm super tired now, so… I'm probably gonna go to bed soon.**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	34. Come Undone

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! I really appreciate it!

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Come Undone**_

X

She was shaking and couldn't stop.

As Clare sat in the police station, waiting for her father to come get her, she couldn't stop thinking about what had happened in the alley. Realization had finally dawned on her, and she was terrified by her own actions — by how quickly she had given into instinct, and how much she _enjoyed_ it. She had never relished in someone else's fear before; she had never even sought to intentionally cause someone pain, but that was exactly what she had done.

She hadn't simply wanted to hurt Owen, either. She'd wanted to kill him, and if Eli, Adam and Fitz hadn't shown up when they did, she probably would have — and that scared her.

The police had arrived on the scene just as Fitz and Adam joined Eli, and all five teenagers had been escorted downtown for questioning. Adam's mother had already picked him up. Needless to say, Audra Torres had been beyond furious, shooting death glares at anyone who looked at her and muttering something about "bad influences" as she all but dragged Adam out of the station by his ear.

Owen was currently being interrogated, and Eli was in the washroom nursing a busted lip. Before Fitz and Adam had jumped in, the football player had managed to land a blow on him, his ringed knuckles tearing Eli's bottom lip right open.

"Hey," Fitz's voice jarred Clare from her thoughts, and she glanced up from her lap to find him standing in front of her with two bottles of water. Grinning sheepishly, he held one out to her. "Here. You look like you could use one."

She smiled weakly at him and took it.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"You okay?" He asked, sitting down on the bench beside her.

"Yeah…" She answered uncertainly. Fitz furrowed his brow, obviously not buying her white lie, but before he could call her on it, she spoke once more. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How… how's everything at home?"

Fitz immediately tore his eyes from hers and didn't say anything, but his silence was all the answer Clare needed. Biting her lip, she reached over and placed her hand on his. He tensed, startled, before hesitantly meeting her gaze once more.

"I'm fine. Really. Phil hasn't been around lately." He said unconvincingly, as if trying to ease her worries.

Clare sighed.

"I still think you should tell someone, Mark." She advised. "You shouldn't have to put up with it."

"I told you -" He started, only to be cut off.

"Where's my daughter?" An all too familiar voice echoed throughout the station. "Is she here? Answer me!"

"Sir, you need to calm down!"

"Don't tell me to calm down! I want to see my daughter!"

Clare's eyes widened. In an instant, she was on her feet and racing towards the front desk, where she found her father arguing with a police officer. "Daddy!"

Randall's jaw snapped shut and he brushed past the officer to meet her.

"Clare! Are you okay?" He asked frantically, concern etched across his face.

"I'm fine." She assured him.

"What happened?" Randall demanded.

"Sir, I can explain." Another officer interjected, making her way over. Clare recognized her as the woman she had talked to earlier when she was brought to the station. The woman smiled at her, before turning to Randall and motioning for him to follow her. Sparing one last glance at his daughter to make sure she was fine, he did just that, while Clare returned to her spot next to Fitz.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Fitz finally spoke.

"I'll think about it." Was all he said, without looking at her.

.

.

.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Her father asked for what seemed like the umpteenth time, as they pulled into the driveway of their house.

Once again, Clare nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt and climbing out of the car. She could see her mother out of the corner of her eye, standing on the front porch waiting for them, but refused to meet her gaze. After her father locked the car, the two made their way over. Without a word, all three went inside, and Clare lugged her bag to the dining room table before sitting down.

She was completely exhausted, and still shaken from her actions earlier. Some feet away, she could hear her parents murmuring in the foyer, talking about her and how they were going to deal with her. She kept her head bowed, her vision blurring as she tried to hold back tears.

Suddenly the talking ceased altogether, and footsteps approached, and soon they too were sitting at the table.

At first, no one spoke.

No one knew what to say, or how to begin.

After what felt like an eternity, her father finally shattered the silence that had fallen on them.

"I think we should talk." He said rationally. "Arguing and pinning the blame on each other hasn't made things better, and isn't going to. If we want to get through this, we need to start talking."

Clare knew her father was right, but she had no idea where to begin.

Did she apologize to her mother? Her father? Both?

But for what specifically?

For lying to Eli? For throwing herself at Fitz? For drinking? For wanting to kill Owen?

For being a horrible daughter?

Clare could feel her parents' eyes on her, and took a deep breath.

Lifting her head, she looked them in the eye at last.

"I have something to tell you…" She said, her voice quivering.

And so she came clean.

About everything.

And when she was done, tears were streaming down her cheeks and she couldn't stop them. The words "I'm sorry" kept spilling from her lips like a sacred mantra, but she didn't know what else to say. She expected her parents to yell at her — but instead she soon found herself wrapped in their arms. Burying her face in her father's shoulder, she cried harder, clinging to him like a vulnerable child.

"It's okay, Clare. Let it out. Just let it out." Her mother murmured, rubbing her back.

So she did.

oOo

His heart hammered against his chest as he waited.

Glancing around the room, he tried to find something to keep his mind preoccupied, but there was nothing. He looked at the clock at the wall, and then back at his hands, fidgeting uncontrollably in his lap. Licking his lips anxiously, he listened to the school secretary type away at her keyboard, practically ignoring his existence.

His eyes flickered over to the door.

It would be so easy to get up and leave.

But he couldn't.

He had to do this.

He'd made his decision.

The sound of a door opening grabbed his attention, and he stood up just as another student walked past him muttering, "You're turn."

Swallowing hard, he made his way over to Ms. Sauvé's office and knocked on the threshold.

She peered up from her paperwork, her brows arching when she saw him.

"Mark! What a surprise!" She said.

Fitz forced a weak grin, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

"What can I do for you?" Ms. Sauvé asked, once he'd seated himself across from her.

"Um… can I… can I talk to you?" He asked uncertainly, his eyes darting around the office.

Ms. Sauvé's expression softened.

"Of course." She assured him. "You can tell me anything."

Fitz took a deep breath, nodding slowly, and then began.

"It's about my step-dad…"

X

**… well? How was it?**

** Good? Bad? Mediocre?**

** Please ****REVIEW**** and tell me what you think!**


	35. Start Again

Disclaimer: Don't own _Degrassi_. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Oh, wow. I got some negative reviews last chapter. I had a feeling chapter 34 was too rushed, but the way it played out in my head was the way it would've probably played out on the actual show. But I suppose it just didn't work. Oh well. On the other hand, there are those who feel like this story has dragged on for far too long.

Welp. I can't please everyone.

X

**Broken Glass****  
**_**Start Again**_

X

"Hey! Get your hands off me, you son of a bitch! I didn't do nothin'!" Phil McLean snarled, red in the face and thrashing violently as he was led over to the police cruiser parked outside their apartment.

Fitz followed silently while his step-father continued to rant and rave, yelling obscenities at the cop restraining him and at anyone — including innocent bystanders — who looked at him the wrong way.

"Listen, whatever that little punk told you, he's lying!"

"We'll see about that." The young officer holding him responded coolly. It was as if he'd heard it countless times before — and in retrospect, he probably had. Phil's shouting didn't faze him in the least. When Phil tried to speak up once more, the officer cut him off. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. Do you understand me?"

It was beyond satisfying, watching Phil be taken away in cuffs. After talking to Ms. Sauvé, she had convinced him to tell his mother — and so he did. He went straight home and found her sitting in the living room, still in her pajamas, and he told her. The next few hours were a complete blur to Fitz, with his mother crying and Phil coming back from the bar down the road. He remembered his mother screaming at Phil and throwing things at him, telling him to get out, just before the cops arrived to arrest him.

As Fitz watched the officer force Phil into the patrol car, he let out a breath of relief.

It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

The man who had terrorized him for years was gone.

It was over.

A sense of bitter triumph washed over him, and he waited until the cruiser drove off before making his way back inside.

His mother was where he'd left her, sitting on the sofa. Her hair was matted to her face, which was blotchy and stained with tears. She sat with her shoulders slumped and her hands clasped, staring blankly at the coffee table, lost in her own thoughts. When Fitz closed the door behind him, she looked up — and he saw clearly the anguish and confusion in her eyes, and tore his gaze away guiltily.

Walking over, he sat down beside her.

He was at a loss for words.

"How…" his mother's voice was raspy from crying, "How long has he been hurting you, baby?"

Fitz could only shrug.

His body felt numb. He still hadn't wrapped his mind around what was happening. It couldn't be real. It had to be a dream. He kept expecting to wake up to Phil shouting at the TV or pounding on his bedroom door.

"Since I was seven." He confessed.

"Oh God…" His mother choked, holding a hand to her mouth and shaking her head in disbelief. "_Oh God_… why didn't you _tell_ me, Mark? I would've protected you! I would've -"

"I didn't want him to hurt you too." Fitz told her.

"But I'm your mother! I'm supposed to protect _you_, not the other way around!" Abby cried.

"I know!" He clenched his fists. "I know… I'm sorry… I should've told you… but I was…" he swallowed the lump in his throat, fixing his gaze on their reflections on the TV screen. "I was scared." He said softly. "I was scared about what he would do to me if I told… but mostly I was scared about what he would do to you. I didn't want him to hurt you. I'm sorry, Mom." His voice cracked while his eyes burned with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry…"

His mother's thin arms enveloped him as he broke down, his entire body shaking.

"Don't cry, Mark… this isn't your fault." Abby whispered, rocking him back and forth. "It's mine. I should've known. I should've been there to protect you." She drew in a shuddery breath, trying to maintain her composure. "But I won't make that mistake again, you hear me?" She placed her hands on his shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. "I'll make sure that bastard pays for what he did to you, if it's the last thing I do."

oOo

_**One week later…**_

.

.

.

What the hell was she doing?

That was the only thing going through Bianca's mind as she scanned the crowded hallway. Lunch had just started and students were piling out of their classrooms and heading straight for the cafeteria. Normally, that's what she would be doing as well — but she was a woman with a mission that day.

Bianca DeSousa was on the hunt, lingering behind and waiting for someone. Sighing impatiently, she leaned back against a nearby locker and closed her eyes.

This was stupid, she mused.

Stupid _and_ pointless.

But… it was something that needed to be done. She knew that if she didn't, she would eventually drive herself insane. Somehow she had grown a conscience, and for the past couple of months, it had been nagging at her — an annoying voice in the back of her mind that wouldn't go away regardless of how hard or how much she tried to suppress it.

It was worse at night, when she went to sleep. _Then_ it took on forms — and horrible scenarios that haunted her even after waking up.

_Damn it._

The sound of sneakers squishing against the floor snapped Bianca out of her reverie, growing louder and louder until it finally halted with a squeak.

When Bianca opened her eyes, she was gazing at Adam Torres' stunned face.

Wide blue eyes locked on hers, staring disbelievingly — and with a hint of fear. His jaw went slack and he tried to speak, but all that came out was incoherent sputtering.

Bianca's lips curled and she crossed her arms, arching a brow and waiting for him to compose himself.

After a few minutes, he managed to do just that, and soon he was eyeing her with contempt and suspicion, his body rigid. Bianca clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, feigning boredom, but not entirely sure what to say.

At last, Adam spoke.

"What do _you_ want?" He asked coldly.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end at the tone of his voice. She narrowed her eyes, about to snap at him — "Tranny" was just on the tip of her tongue — but she quickly reminded herself of the reason she was there in the first place, and swallowed the slur.

Adam stared at her expectantly. She could tell that his patience was thinning, and licked her lips nervously.

"I'm sorry." She blurted.

Adam reeled back in surprise. "_E-excuse me_?"

Bianca went tense, sucking in a sharp breath. Then, with a defeated sigh, she continued.

"I'm sorry for what I did… for how I reacted…" she said honestly, glancing away. "I… I was wrong and I'm… I'm _sorry_."

She couldn't bring herself to look at him, but she could still feel his penetrating gaze on her.

"… okay."

Her head snapped up and she threw him an incredulous glance. "_Okay_? That's it?"

Adam blinked. "Yeah."

Bianca furrowed her brow.

"What? You're not going to make me beg for forgiveness, or be your slave for a year?"

Adam let out a laugh, which surprised both of them. "You bring up an interesting point…"

"What? No… don't you dare. Don't!" She cried, feeling the color drain from her face when she noticed the devious glint in his eyes.

"I dunno…" he drawled teasingly, tapping his finger against his chin as though considering it. "Sounds like a great idea to me…"

"You jerk!"

He laughed again. "Hey, you came up with it!"

Bianca huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder and planting her hands on her hips.

"But…" Adam went on with a smile. "I'm a stand-up kind of guy. So… just this once, I'll be generous."

"Thank you." She said gratefully.

Adam grinned lopsidedly, before peering down at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"So… uh…" He cleared his throat awkwardly, his face flushing with embarrassment. "What now?"

Bianca shrugged. "Walk me to lunch?"

Adam looked up, visibly shocked.

"You _actually_ want to be seen with me?" He said cautiously. "This isn't a trick or a mean prank?"

"No joke." Bianca replied simply. "I mean it. I really, really like you, Adam." God, how lame. She sounded so pathetic — like a twelve-year-old girl attending her first Justin Bieber concert. "I have since we danced together. Even after… well, you remember."

How could he forget? She had humiliated him in front of the entire hallway, and then in class. She had made him miserable and had her friends harass him, and why? Because she'd been angry — angry at being deceived, and lashing out at him was the only way she knew how to respond. Bianca glanced away from him, guilt coiling around her as she thought about _that_ day and cringed, disgusted with herself.

She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a gentle hand rest on her arm. She stiffened, lifting her gaze slowly and staring at him. When Adam merely smiled at her, she felt her insides turn to jelly and her cheeks tingle.

"So… lunch?"

Adam nodded and Bianca smiled, looping her arm through his.

"You're buying, right?" She teased.

"Aw, come on… I don't remember agreeing to that!" He whined.

Bianca smirked, before sticking out her bottom lip and batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. "Pretty please? With a cherry on top?"

Adam scrunched up his nose. "Don't do that. You look weird."

Bianca scoffed.

"Hey! I take offense to that! I'm the hottest thing that's ever walked through these halls — don't deny it!"

"I won't."

They started down the hall, towards the cafeteria.

"Drew's gonna flip, you know." Adam said after a moment.

"Probably." Bianca replied nonchalantly.

"Eli too… and Clare." He warned.

"Doctor Doom can think what he wants. And Clare won't do anything. We're tight." She answered fondly.

"What?"

"Long story."

There was another pause before Adam piped up once more.

"… and my mom."

Bianca fell silent, prompting Adam to laugh. She rolled her eyes, hooking her fingers in the collar of his shirt and pulling him along.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there." She said. "Now come on, Torres. I'm hungry."

oOo

_**We need to talk. Meet me at the Dot in ten.**_

Clare skimmed through the text again, before glancing at her watch. She was sitting at a table by the window, tapping her foot to the music playing on the radio as she anxiously waited for Eli to show up.

It had been a week since her altercation with Owen, and her subsequent breakdown in front of her parents. She had come clean to her parents about everything that had happened in the last couple of months — from sneaking out with Eli, to going to the Ravine, to throwing herself at a boy she'd unconsciously strung along while in a drunken stupor. After she had managed to calm down, and her parents assured her that they still loved her regardless of the choices she'd made recently, they grounded her.

She wouldn't be able to see any of her friends outside of school for three weeks.

It put a damper on her mood, to say the least, but she knew it could be a lot worse. They could've sent her to a boarding school in England.

Things still weren't perfect at home. Fortunately, her parents had managed to go an entire week without biting each other's heads off, but they were still far from being the perfect family that they once were. It was only a matter of time before they would be fighting again, but at least they were trying and really, that was all she could ask for.

The door chimed, signalling someone's entrance, and Clare glanced up just as Eli walked in. Their eyes met and he walked over, pulling up a chair across from her.

"Hey." She greeted softly.

"Hey." He replied.

Her gaze dropped to her lap, where her hands rested and where she toyed with the silver band around her finger. She had stumbled across her purity ring a day ago, buried deep within her laundry basket.

"What… what did you want to talk about?" She asked.

Eli sighed. "I don't know. Us, I guess."

Clare bit her lip.

"Is there still an 'us'?"

There was a pause before Eli answered. "No."

Tears began to well up in her eyes, but she held them back, twisting her purity ring furiously. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him.

"Eli… I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I swear -"

"I know." Eli cut her off.

Clare furrowed her brow in confusion. "What?"

"Fitz told me." He explained. "About you tutoring him… and about how he was the one who kissed you. And that you stopped him."

"It doesn't matter if he kissed me. I still lied to you." Clare mumbled sadly. "But… Eli… I didn't want to keep it from you. I was going to tell you eventually, but whenever an opportunity came up I… I got scared. I was afraid how you'd react… that you'd hate me." She laughed bitterly. "Guess it doesn't matter, though. Because I still lost you."

Eli remained silent as she spoke, listening attentively. His expression was unreadable — she couldn't tell what he was thinking.

She went on, "I love you, Eli. I love you more than anyone else in the world. I'm never going to feel this way about anyone else — not KC, not Fitz, not anyone — and… I know I messed up, but I just… I need you to know that I _love_ you." She blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill, and kept her eyes on his. "I want to be with you. Please… give me another chance, Eli… I know it's a lot to ask but… please…"

Eli shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Clare. I don't think I can."

"O-oh." She choked, feeling her throat tighten. She stood up quickly, suddenly unable to breathe. "Okay… that's… that's fine. I just… I wanted to try, you know? I…" Air. She needed air. Without another word, she rushed out of the Dot. Standing on the sidewalk, she took deep breaths, trying to compose herself but with little avail.

"Clare."

She spun around to find Eli emerging from the Dot, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Why not?" She croaked. "Why won't you give me another chance?"

Eli sighed.

"It's not that easy, Clare." He said calmly. "It took me a long time to open up to you… to trust you… and you broke that trust."

"I'm sorry!" She cried. "I didn't mean to! If I could take it back, I would!"

"I know."

A frustrated noise escaped her lips, and she combed her fingers through her curls.

"Damn it, Eli, what was the point of asking me to come here?" She asked.

"To start over."

She shot him a quizzical look. "What?"

Eli stepped closer.

"It'd be impossible to pick up where we left off, after everything that's happened." He said. "But… that doesn't mean we can't start from the beginning."

"What are you talking about, Eli?" She asked, her mind reeling with confusion.

He took another step towards her. Clare's breath hitched when she noticed their close proximities — his lips were inches away from hers and she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Slowly, she lifted her gaze.

"You have pretty eyes." He murmured, just like he'd done so long ago.

Clare's heart skipped a beat. "Thanks, um… I'll see you around?"

He smirked.

"Guess you will."

With that, Eli drew back. Clare let go of the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, while he turned around and made his way over to Morty — but not before casting a knowing look over his shoulder. She watched him climb inside and shut the door. Loud music began to blare, practically drowning out the sound of afternoon traffic, and before she knew it, he was gone.

Even though Eli's answer wasn't absolute, her chest felt lighter.

A sense of hope embraced her, and she smiled.

"Maybe… someday."

oOo

From his spot behind the counter, he watched her grin from ear-to-ear.

"Ah, unrequited love. Sucks, doesn't it?"

Spinner's voice jarred Fitz from his thoughts. He glanced at his co-worker and grimaced.

"Something like that."

"Don't worry, man. There are plenty of fish in the sea." Spinner assured him, clapping him on the back.

Fitz raised a questioning brow, then sighed. "I guess."

Spinner chuckled.

"Seriously, dude. I must've been in love like… seven times in high school. You'll move on — trust me."

"Whatever you say…" Fitz muttered.

"You know what they say about listening to your elders? Yeah, this is one of those times." Spinner insisted. "Degrassi might be a magnet for troubled youth such as us, _but_… while it does screw with us, it also makes us learn, and if we somehow manage to survive… we become better people. _Wiser_ people."

"You? Wise?" Fitz joked, earning a punch to the shoulder. "Ow… what was _that_ for?"

"For being a smartass." Spinner replied. "Also, customer."

With that, he walked off and Fitz turned around just as a girl approached the counter. She had long dark hair and braces, and wore a Degrassi sweater over a yellow polo.

"Uh… hi." She greeted, "Can I… can I get a mint cappuccino?"

"Sure." Fitz replied with a nod.

While she dug around her purse for money, he got started on her order. When he returned with her drink, she flashed him an awkward smile.

"Do you go to Degrassi?" She asked.

"Yeah. Junior." Fitz replied. "You?"

"Niner." She said with a small laugh. "I'm Jess, by the way."

"Fitz."

She smiled again, before pulling out a handful of change to give to him. He shook his head.

"Don't worry about it." He said. "It's on me."

Jess's eyes lit up. "Really? Thanks!"

"No problem." He handed her her mint cappuccino. "See you around, Niner."

"You too." She responded, giving him one last smile before making her way out the door.

An exasperated sigh sounded from behind him.

"Did you just give that girl a free cappuccino?"

"… yeah."

"That is _so_ coming out of your pay check, dude."

X

**FIN**

X

**… and it's done. It's finally done.**

** I feel kind of sad now. I've been working on this for almost a year. I started back in September, just after the Boiling Point ended. **

** A HUGE thank you to everyone who read it. Thank you for being patient and for providing me with wonderful feedback! I really, really hope you guys enjoyed.**

** Moving on… I really tried to close up any loose ends and plot holes. Not sure if I succeeded, but… I did try. **

** Also… CRACK PAIRING! Jess and Fitz. Jitz? Fess? I imagine the Flare shippers hate me right now, but… I had never planned for this to end with them. Sorry guys. But to make up for it, I'm going to write a happy Flare oneshot that, for once, is not one-sided. Also, I left Eclare open-ended on purpose. Originally they were going to get back together and everything would be sunshine and rainbows, but… given the circumstances, I didn't think it would be realistic.**

** Oh, and the Bianca and Adam scene? At first, she was going to plant one on him… but then that didn't happen. Oh well. I'll have to write a steamy Badam make out sesh some other time. Also, was her "Walk me to lunch?" remark too… Fiona? Because I heard Annie Clark's voice in my head when I was writing it.**

** Anyway… I think I'm starting to ramble, so I'll shut up now.**

** Once again, thank you to EVERYONE who stuck by this fic and I hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

** PEACE.**


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